


don't want to fight you

by starryharry



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mutual Pining, No Smut, OH and they're canadian !!!, Pining, Recreational Drug Use, Slow Burn, ahaha it's hl :), allusions to sex though, and some may argue, and they hate each other, bedsharing.... like. a lot of it, hmm what else, i suppose there's a little bit of angst, it's more like rivals to lovers but, ok here we go !!!!, ok so hl are taekwondo fighters !!!, they train together, very minor though, zarry ?? zouis ?? zourry ?? bait and switch baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-17 07:55:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 124,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29222055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starryharry/pseuds/starryharry
Summary: Louis hates that it’s familiar. He hates that sparring Harry is familiar because they train together. He hates that he even has to spar Harry at all, because Harry is good.Louis wonders what his life would be like if him and Harry didn’t hate each other. He can’t picture it, really. The incessant bickering that often turns into real arguing, the nasty looks, the eye rolls, the middle fingers. It all feels very necessary at this point.Or, the one where two fighters can also be lovers because routines are never permanent.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 29
Kudos: 125





	1. september

**Author's Note:**

> hello, welcome !! this fic feels like an absolute monster but i hope you enjoy it !! a big thank you to cade once again for reading along with each chapter and helping me figure some stuff out !! 
> 
> i'm so excited to be posting this. it kind of feels like i'm sharing such a big part of my life with the world, even if the not all the aspects are entirely the same. 
> 
> please enjoy :)
> 
> you can follow me on tumblr [here](https://lt2soon.tumblr.com) and you can reblog the fic post [here](https://lt2soon.tumblr.com/post/642327396939415552/dont-want-to-fight-you-hl-complete-124k-by) :)

The moon was shining, because that’s what she did at this hour. She shone relentlessly, uncaring about what those beneath her were doing; such as Louis, who was waking up to the sound of his alarm. For Louis, it was a routine to fall back into, whereas for the moon, it was a routine that never changed because there was no alternative. 

Louis rolls over and groans. He’s never been a morning person, and he never will be, no matter how conditioned his body gets to early starts. Why should anybody be awake at this time? Why would anybody willingly put themselves through it? He grabs his phone from the empty space beside him in his bed and rubs his eyes, hoping silently for the hour to change and the sun to be rising. But once he turns off the blaring noise, it’s still only half past four in the morning. 

He forces himself to sit up in bed, knowing he’ll only feel worse later if he delays actually getting up. He tosses the covers off and stands, thankful he already packed all his gear before crawling into bed at nine last night. Louis decides a quick shower will certainly wake him up and get him back in the right mindset. 

As he runs the water, he feels the nerves start to kick in, thrumming through his body. 

“Stop it,” he scolds, whispering to himself. 

_You’ve been doing this for too long to be nervous._

And he’s right, is the thing. Louis has been training nearly his whole life, starting at the age of four. As he got older, he got more serious about it. Started putting in the hours; the real work. Now, he’s twenty-two years old and still getting butterflies before a competition. It almost feels shameful. 

Louis steps into the warm shower and allows the stream of the water to relax his muscles and quiet his mind. He washes quickly, then steps out not even five minutes later. He wraps a towel around himself, now wet and quickly becoming cold. His body moves like he knows what he’s doing; straight to the kitchen for breakfast, like every morning. But this morning isn’t like any other. So when Louis opens the fridge, he closes it immediately; he feels sick at even the prospect of eating beforehand. 

Instead, he opens the cabinet above his sink and pulls down his squeeze bottle; the only bottle he uses during competitions. He grabs the ice cube tray from his freezer and pops out as many as he can fit, then fills the rest with water and sets the bottle into the fridge. Realizing he’s dry, he walks back to his bedroom to get dressed. Carefully, he takes his ironed uniform out of the closet and puts on the pants and top. He catches a glimpse of himself in his closet mirror as he ties the belt around his waist. His dobok is crisp, just the way it should be. 

He feels a sudden burst of excitement for the start of the competition season. It’s going to be a lot of early mornings like this one, which he will forever complain about, yet Louis wouldn’t trade it for anything else.

**

“Tell me again,” Zayn says, as they meet at the front entrance, like they always do when they’re not driving together, then turn to head inside together. “Why did we both choose taekwondo?”

He and Zayn have been training together for as far back as Louis can remember. Zayn is the only other person he currently trains with that he can remember training with in a non-competitive setting; back when it was just a hobby, something to do after school. Eventually, all of their childhood classmates moved on and left. Everyone else they know now show up in his mind sometime later on in the journey. The two of them only grew closer as time went on, becoming known as the dynamic duo from their dojang. 

“Alright,” Louis nods sharply, deciding that Zayn’s question was rhetorical. He looks around at the multiple rings set up and all the people bustling about already. “Poomsae first.”

Louis adjusts the duffel bag on his shoulder reflexively, then heads to the check-in table. 

“Good morning, Bree,” he smiles politely at the familiar face doing his weigh-in. 

She greets him briefly, then gestures for him to step on the scale. Louis lets out a small sigh of relief when he still falls neatly into the weight class he signed up for. Realistically, he knew he would, but there’s always a brief moment of uncertainty and panic.

“Good luck today, Louis,” Bree says, probably having heard his outward expression. “You’ll do great.”

“Thanks. When are you getting back out there?” He teases, already walking backwards. 

“When I’m confident enough to kick your ass,” she quips back. 

A familiar hand lands on his shoulder. Louis turns his head, though he already knows it’s Zayn. He turns around to walk with him, leaving Bree behind him at registration. 

_Time to focus._

“I’m in that ring for poomsae,” Zayn points. “And I’m up soon.”

“I’m in that ring, too,” Louis smiles. “But later. Let’s warm-up together and then I’ll stay and watch you.”

Zayn has always been far better than Louis at poomsae. Both his form and flexibility are superior. Louis doesn’t have ‘pretty kicks’ like Zayn. But he doesn’t mind; he’s more naturally built for sparring. He’s got the endurance and the agility, which Zayn sometimes lacks. Zayn is a good fighter, too, but when he loses, it’s usually because he’s run out of steam in the third round. Their coach, James, jokes that they train together so often, it’s almost strange that they haven’t picked up on the others’ abilities; that all they need to do is just trade a few skills. But truthfully, Louis wouldn’t give up his sparring abilities to be better at poomsae. 

They put their gear down on the sidelines, away from the business of the rings, and head into the adjacent, smaller gymnasium to get ready. Together, they jog a few laps around the exterior of the room, ignoring what everyone else is doing in the centre area. They move together in silence, preparing to reach a certain level of intensity. Once they’ve finished their run, they claim an empty spot to start their routine stretch. 

When they were younger, Louis used to feel weird about stretching with Zayn and being so physically close. But now, it’s just a habit, something both of their bodies know how to do. Louis gently places his hands on the small of Zayn’s back, easing him down towards the floor with his legs outstretched in a V-shape. 

“Good morning, Zayn,” an annoyingly chipper voice says from in front of them. 

Louis looks over Zayn’s back, dragging his eyes up slowly until locking eyes with the person towering over them.

“Hey, Harry,” Zayn says calmly, without moving from his stretched position.

With Zayn not paying attention, Louis and Harry narrow their eyes at each other, until Harry begins to smirk, and Louis rolls his eyes dramatically. 

“Tomlinson,” Harry snarls in response. 

Louis doesn’t respond. He tears his eyes away and focuses on releasing the tension from his hands that are currently meant to be gentle on Zayn’s body. 

“Did you get a chance to look at your sparring division?”

“No, we didn’t look yet,” Zayn answers for him, slowly raising his body to a sitting position. 

“Oh,” Harry says, tilting his head, glint in his eyes. “So you didn’t know we’re in the same sub-division today?”

No, Louis did not know that. He just wanted to make it through the forms competition in peace before worrying about who he was fighting. Harry knows this, and Louis knows he’s just trying to get in his head before the day even starts. 

Harry Styles is the bane of Louis’ existence. 

Arrogant. Conceited. Cocky. 

Though Louis’ descriptors for Harry are all very similar, he still doesn’t think it’s enough to thoroughly describe the displeasure he gets from knowing him. Harry is two years younger than Louis, but a fair bit taller. He stays slim with the sole purpose of staying in the same weight class as Louis. He’s extremely competitive, and is absolutely out to destroy Louis, though they’ve been training together for five years. 

When Harry first mysteriously showed up, already a black belt, having transferred from another studio, Zayn thought maybe Harry just had a crush on Louis. He suspected Harry was always trying to piss Louis off just for the sake of having his attention. But as time went on, their hatred for each other only grew, and Zayn admitted to Louis, for probably the first time ever, that ‘maybe he was wrong’. 

There was one occasion though, where Zayn backtracked on that half-apology. He told Louis that they probably just needed to fuck and get it out of their system. Something about ‘releasing the obvious sexual tension’. Louis stormed off then, and made sure to show no mercy during training that day. 

Zayn never said anything about it again, dropping the idea completely. He didn’t even complain about the bruises Louis left, but that’s neither here nor there.

And now, Harry stares down at him with an all too familiar smirk on his face. 

“Don’t lose your first match,” he grins. “I would love to kick your ass later today.”

“As if, Styles,” Louis retorts quickly, exerting more pressure on Zayn, folding him completely in half with his legs extended straight out in front of him. “Not a chance in hell you beat me.”

And when Harry steps closer, Louis scrambles to his feet, keeping his eyes locked on his. Harry steps closer and gets right into his face, but Louis doesn’t back away. Louis can practically hear Zayn’s eye roll, but chooses to ignore it in favour of staring Harry down. 

Harry just continues to smirk at him; a smirk that Louis can’t wait to kick right off his stupid, smug face later. 

When Harry walks away, Louis turns back around to see Zayn looking up at him expectantly. 

“I don’t want to hear it,” Louis closes his eyes and puts a hand up in front of him.

“I wasn’t even gonna say anything,” Zayn mumbles.

“Still don’t want to hear it.”

**

Louis watches as Zayn performs flawlessly. His timing is always just so perfect, pausing in all the right places. And his kicks really are pretty. He hears Harry’s distinctive yell from a nearby ring, but Louis doesn’t tear his eyes off Zayn. He doesn’t want to watch Harry compete in poomsae. He doesn’t want to watch Harry do much of anything, really. 

Zayn yells loudly on his last movement, and the caller commands him back to ready position. Everyone around claps politely as Zayn bows before exiting the ring. Louis feels his nerves boiling to a high as Zayn approaches him with a soft smile. As if Zayn can sense it, because he probably can, he squeezes Louis’ shoulder gently. 

Zayn turns then, hand still on Louis’ shoulder, and looks up into the bleachers. Louis follows his eyes and sees Zayn’s roommate, Liam, sitting in the front row, waving at the two of them. 

Liam, probably one of the nicest people Louis has ever met, and therefore, the best person Zayn could have possibly ended up living with. Louis has always felt very protective over Zayn, much in the same way that Zayn is protective of Louis, and from the day that Zayn introduced him to a stranger he met on the internet who he was moving in with two years ago, Louis never had a doubt in his mind about Liam’s character. 

“It’s nice that he still comes out to watch when he can,” Louis comments, looking back at Zayn.

“Yeah,” Zayn breathes out. “You’d think he would be bored of it by now.”

“Well, he’s Liam, so.”

Zayn finally tears his eyes away from Liam and smiles at Louis, then walks with him around the ring so he can get ready. 

When it’s almost his turn, Louis inadvertently catches Harry’s eye from across the ring. Gold medal around his neck, looking smug as always, because when does he not? Louis rolls his eyes at him and shakes out his hands, tearing his gaze away from Harry. One of the volunteers informs him he’s up next, and guides him to the marked entrance. 

“Good luck!” Zayn calls, backing away and leaving Louis to focus. 

Louis doesn’t respond. He nods sharply and puts his game face on. By the time the caller announces his name, he’s already got his fists shut tight, and walks on like he knows what he’s doing. 

Because he does.

Louis performs his poomsae, and takes in the applause as he walks off in the opposite direction from which he entered. Harry is standing nearby, hands resting on his hips, pushing his belt lower, the only one around not clapping respectfully. 

“Maybe I shouldn’t have interrupted you while you were stretching,” he says as Louis walks by. “Looks like you could have used it.”

“You know what, Harry?” Louis turns back around, ready to snap, now that he’s out of the ring, and out of the judges' eyes.

“What, Tomlinson?” Harry spits back, not scared of Louis getting closer. 

“Woah,” Zayn pushes between them. “God, when are you two gonna learn to get along? You’re on the same team.”

“I’m on no team of his,” Louis mutters, still staring Harry down.

“Fight ya later,” Harry shrugs, then turns and walks away as if it were nothing.

“Just let him go, Louis,” Zayn sighs, noticing the way Louis narrows his eyes at Harry’s back. 

Louis nods slowly, still watching Harry as he gets further and further away. He can’t wait to spar him and get him to shut up for the day. 

**

Zayn gets gold in his category, and Louis gets silver. To be expected, and not disappointing. Louis is often surprised that he even places at all in poomsae. So he’ll take what he can get. 

As it nears time for sparring, Louis and Zayn gear up together beneath the bleachers. They take turns kicking each other gently to make sure their sensors are in place and functioning properly, then head over to the ring, helmets tucked under their arms, and water bottles in the other hand.

Louis’ nerves make a not-so-surprising comeback once they’re standing on the perimeter of the ring once again, surrounded by others. He swallows them down and takes a sip of water to try and clear the lump in his throat. When James approaches him and Zayn, it makes it feel all the more real. 

“Relax, Tomlinson,” James laughs. “It’s the first tournament of the season. Stop stressing.” More seriously, he adds, “But also, you know you need to do well.”

Zayn laughs with James, and punches Louis’ chest gear lightly. 

Louis lets himself laugh, too, starting to relax again. 

It doesn’t last long. 

He looks up to see the referee and head table starting to get everyone in order, and it seems like Harry is up first. Harry sits in his chair and twiddles with his hands, takes small sips of water, rolls his head around his neck.

“Better get over there,” James says, interrupting Louis’ observations. Louis hadn’t even realized James was still standing beside him until he spoke again. 

Louis watches as James makes his way to the other side of the ring. He continues to watch as James points casually towards the other competitor and makes gestures with his hands, offering Harry advice on how to outsmart his opponent. He speaks as Harry nods along. Eventually, they both laugh and Louis looks at Zayn. Zayn just shrugs, then turns back to watch as the referee calls both Harry and his opponent to the centre for the start of the match. 

Even the way Harry walks into the ring is arrogant. He basically saunters in, as if he’s already won.

They bow to the front table, then to each other. The referee sets them up in fighting position, and Louis watches as Harry bounces lightly on the balls of his feet, hands loose. The fight starts, and Louis knows without even needing to watch, that Harry is going to win.

That’s the problem, really. The basic, fundamental grounds for their distaste for one another. Harry is good. And Louis is good. When Harry was sixteen and Louis was eighteen, they were extremely close in size. Which meant they were always pitted against each other, compared to one another. They grew up fighting each other to be perceived by everybody else as the best. 

Unsurprisingly, Harry wins his match. 

“He’s really using his front leg today,” Zayn comments. 

Louis hadn’t noticed. He scolds himself for not paying attention to the way Harry fights. He may not _want_ to watch Harry, but that doesn’t mean he shouldn’t.

When it’s Louis’ turn to fight his first match, he’s got Zayn standing behind one shoulder and James behind the other. Zayn is mostly there for moral support, but James is the one telling him what to do. 

“You’ve got this,” Zayn says when the referee calls him to the centre. 

Louis takes a deep breath. 

He’s got this.

The first round doesn’t go well. Louis is trailing by three. Fortunately for him, that’s when Louis tends to excel in the next two rounds. A little bit of pressure always drives him into gear. He keeps himself loose on the chair as James reams him out for all his mistakes, taking small sips of water as he listens. 

As expected, Louis takes the lead in the second round and maintains it in the third. He wins his match, but feels physically drained. He doesn’t know how many people are in his division today, and therefore whether or not he’s fighting Harry next. He walks with Zayn to check, and as it turns out, there’s only four of them, which is pretty typical so early in the season. But that simply means that yes, Louis is fighting Harry next. 

Before Louis knows it, he finds himself sitting in the competitor’s chair again. Sitting directly across from him, Harry is staring him down. Louis just shakes his head and looks away. Whenever they fight each other, James only watches. He can’t coach both of them, so he doesn’t coach either of them. The referee calls them into the ring. They bow and get set up into their fighting position. 

Louis hates that it’s familiar. He hates that sparring Harry is familiar because they train together. He hates that he even has to spar Harry at all, because Harry is _good_. 

The match starts.

Louis fakes, and Harry doesn’t react. Harry sets himself up for a combination of kicks Louis knows he uses, and Louis reacts accordingly. But before Louis can move out of the way, Harry has his stupidly long leg above Louis’ shoulder, coming down for a swift axe kick to the side of Louis’ face. Louis fights back, but comes out of the first round trailing.

He trails in the second round, too. Harry hits him with a defensive back kick that knocks the wind out of him first and foremost, but also annoys him; he walked right into it. Now, he’s just frustrated with himself.

And when Louis is frustrated with himself, he falls way off his game. So in the third round, he can’t close the gap. 

He loses. 

Harry beats him. 

The referee announces Harry as the winner, and everyone around applauds. Louis rips his helmet off, grabs his water bottle, and heads straight for the locker room as soon as they’re out of the ring. 

Louis splashes his face with cold water. He grips the porcelain sink and looks up at himself in the mirror. The swing of the locker room door catches his eye, and he watches through the mirror as Harry strolls in.

When Louis looks up and meets Harry’s eye in the mirror, he turns around sharply, back against the sink.

“What do you want?” Louis says through gritted teeth, not ready for Harry to gloat. 

“Why would you think I want something from you?” Harry retorts quickly, still walking towards him.

“So what? You’re just following me then?” 

Harry barks out a fake laugh. “You wish, Tomlinson,” he spits, taking another step closer. “Grow up and realize not everything is about you all the time. This is a public locker room.”

“Fuck you,” Louis mutters, not paying mind to the way in which Harry is crowding his space, then turns back to the sink, embarrassed that Harry called him out. 

The door swings open again and Zayn walks in. 

“James wants us,” he says grimly. Then, sensing the tension in the room, he adds, “You two can’t be alone together for even a minute. Let’s go.” 

The three of them walk together and find James waiting for them in a corner of the gymnasium, away from everyone else. The girls always fight later in the day, and they probably won’t even be arriving until after the boys are gone. So for now, it’s just the three of them. 

“Take your gear off,” James instructs.

They all start to untie their chest gear and slip it over their heads.

“We have a lot of work to do, boys. It’s only the first tournament of the season, but I still expected better.”

Louis continues to take all of his equipment off and pack it up neatly inside his chest gear so he can carry it to his bag afterwards. 

“None of you performed to my standards, today,” James continues. Before Harry can open his mouth and argue back, James says, “Not even you, Styles. You may have won, but that doesn’t mean I’m impressed with your matches.”

Louis can’t stop himself from looking up at Harry and feeling a glint of joy when he sees his eyes are trained on the ground, a frown painted on his face, and actually silenced for once. 

“That being said, I’ll see you all tomorrow night. Seven o’clock. We’ll go until I decide we’re done.”

With James, that could mean anything. Sometimes, he calls it a night after only an hour. Other times, they train into the earliest hours of the next day.

James dismisses them, and they all walk back towards their bags in silence. 

“Well,” Zayn’s voice cuts through the air. “Liam is still here and he’s my ride home, so I’ll see you both tomorrow night.”

“Bye, Zayn,” Harry and Louis both say at the same time. 

Zayn watches them cautiously as he walks away, as if he’s worried about leaving them alone again. 

“Hey, Louis,” Harry says, head down. “Any chance you could give me a ride home?”

“Not a chance in hell, actually.”

“It’s just, Niall left because he had to go to work. And now Zayn is leaving with Liam,” Harry kicks at the ground.

Louis wonders how much pride Harry is currently swallowing to even find it in him to ask.

“Okay, well, you showed me today that you have two working legs. You can walk.”

“You’re such an asshole, you know that?” Harry finally looks up, eyes narrowed at Louis.

“Yeah, and you’re a self-absorbed brat.”

Harry storms off then, and Louis doesn’t spare another thought wondering about how he’s getting home. He packs his bag, slings it over his shoulder and walks out of the building. 

Louis gets in his car, turns the radio up, and drives home to his apartment. As he sits in the dark later that night, his television the only thing illuminating the living room, he tries as hard as he can to ignore the part of him that wished it wasn’t so quiet. But it’s hard to ignore an empty feeling. 

**

Louis picks up his phone on the third ring.

“I can’t believe you made Harry take the bus home yesterday!” Zayn yells into the phone before Louis even says anything. 

“Relax,” Louis rolls his eyes. “At least it was a local tournament,” he says smugly, imagining the power he would have held if they were travelling further away. “And actually, that’s better than what I suggested,” Louis shrugs, as if Zayn can see him. “I told him to walk.”

“Louis, you both need to stop.”

“So you’re on his side now?” Louis snaps defensively, voice coming out harsher than he intends.

“No, Louis. There are no sides,” Zayn throws it right back. “It’s ridiculous that you two can’t play nice. We aren’t kids anymore.”

Louis sighs into the phone. “Is this why you called? So you can lecture me about playing nice with Harry?”

“No,” Zayn’s voice relaxes slightly. “Want me to pick you up for training? Figured we could grab a bite and a drink if we’re let out early enough.”

“That sounds nice,” Louis answers honestly. “Sure.”

“I’ll see you in an hour.”

**

The thing about training is that Louis truly loves it. Well, he wouldn’t necessarily admit that when he’s being pushed so hard he thinks he might pass out. But he loves carpooling with Zayn, who is really his closest friend. He loves getting to the studio and warming up while there’s nobody else there. 

They walk in, and the dojang is still dark, suggesting they’re the first ones to arrive. Zayn excuses himself to the locker room, and when Louis walks into the training space to put his gear and water bottle down, somebody steps out from the shadows.

“Jesus,” Louis mutters under his breath. “What the fuck?” He demands, upon realizing it was Harry.

“You’re such a wimp, Louis. I wasn’t even trying to scare you.” 

“Shut up.”

“Good one.”

“Seriously, Harry. Just leave me the fuck alone for once.”

Louis wonders what his life would be like if him and Harry didn’t hate each other. He can’t picture it, really. The incessant bickering that often turns into real arguing, the nasty looks, the eye rolls, the middle fingers. It all feels very necessary at this point. 

“Boys,” James’ voice echoes in the empty studio. “Knock it off.”

They step away from each other, and the tension dissipates immediately. When Zayn comes out of the locker room, they can actually hear him sigh, having realized that _something_ happened while he was gone. They start their warm-up run, then sit and stretch casually. 

“I’m connecting my phone today,” Louis announces as he jumps up and runs over to the speaker to plug his phone into the aux cord. He hits play on his favourite training playlist, and Harry scoffs immediately.

“Could you at least choose some better music?” 

“Could you just appreciate that we’re not sitting in silence anymore?” 

They fall back into a silence, letting the music take over. James tells them to get up when they’re done, and he’s already holding kicking targets. They get in a line, taking turns working on their rear leg roundhouse kicks. When James praises Harry, something inside Louis clenches. It only fires him up to do better. When James praises him on his next turn, the fire inside him dies down a little, allowing him to relax. 

Louis has never felt competitive with Zayn. But with Harry, it’s like they were designed to be opposites and to fight for the most attention in the taekwondo world. 

They switch up the drill, and James is still holding the targets. After going through a few, he tells them to put only their helmets on. Louis sighs, knowing what’s coming next, and he hates it. 

“Alright, remember,” James says. “Keep your hands up. If you get tapped on the head, you owe me five.”

Zayn and Harry are up first. James yells at them from the side to maintain their distance, watch their footwork, keep their hands up. Louis watches on, waiting for his turn.

“Alright, Zayn, start your push-ups. Twenty-five. Louis, you’re up with Harry.”

Louis approaches, then starts moving, trying to stay light on his feet. He’s got his hands up to guard by his head. When Harry makes a move to reach in, Louis sideswipes his attack, then jumps off the ground to fly to take a hit at Harry’s head. The feeling of his hand smacking the top of Harry’s head is exhilarating. 

He gets back out of Harry’s space quickly, keeps his focus. When time is up, James tells Harry and Zayn to switch, informing Harry he’s tallied thirty push-ups between the two matches. Louis isn’t sure how many he’s going to have. He focuses on matching Zayn’s footwork, and before he knows it, they’re done.

“Zayn, you’ve got ten more. And Louis, you’ve got a total of ten. Good work.” 

Louis smiles to himself, then drops to the floor and does his drill. 

They don’t train too late into the night. After a few more kicking drills, followed by some endurance training, James tells them to go home. It’s only ten o’clock, and Louis is ready for a much needed drink with Zayn. His stomach growls, letting him know he’s also ready for food. 

In the locker room, all three of them opt for a shower. Harry leaves first, and Zayn whispers to Louis in the next stall.

“We should invite him.”

“No, we should not,” Louis whisper-yells back. 

“Louis.”

“Zayn.”

Zayn doesn’t say anything after that, which is almost worse than getting a lecture.

“Fine,” Louis caves, turning off the shower.

He wraps himself in a towel and steps out, only to see Harry already halfway dressed, his training clothes tossed messily on the bench. 

Louis may have agreed to invite Harry out with them, but he’s not going to be the one to make the offer. Zayn’s shower squeaks off, and Louis winces. He kind of hoped Harry would be done and gone by the time Zayn finished. 

“Hey, Harry,” Zayn says, stepping out. “Louis and I are going to go grab something to eat. Do you wanna come?”

Harry looks between Zayn and Louis. He looks caught, like he thinks he’s walking into some sort of trap.

“I’m good,” he answers slowly, then stuffs his clothes into his bag and zips it almost aggressively. “Thanks, though.”

He turns and walks out, leaving the other two alone. Zayn sighs and looks over at Louis.

“Oh well,” he smiles. “We tried.”

Zayn hits him. 

**

Louis definitely eats more pizza than he should, but is cautious enough not to have more than one beer. He hates being drunk almost as much as he hates Harry. He much prefers when all five senses as well as his motor abilities are functional. He makes very few exceptions. 

Realistically, he and Zayn don’t go out often. If they’re in the mood to hangout, they usually end up on Louis’ couch, or Louis will end up at Zayn’s, in which case, Liam joins, since he lives there, too. So although there’s no occasion tonight, something about it still feels special. 

“We should go out more often,” Zayn says casually, as if he was reading all of Louis’ thoughts. 

“Yeah,” Louis nods, biting into his pizza. 

Zayn puts his pizza back on his plate and turns sharply to look at Louis. “Can I ask you something?”

And that doesn’t make Louis nervous at all. 

“Sure, go for it,” Louis takes another bite, trying to be as casual as possible.

“You and Harry-”

Louis raises a hand. “Let me stop you right there.”

“No,” Zayn says definitively. “Seriously, Louis. I want to know.”

“Fine,” Louis sighs as dramatically as he can. “What would you like to know?”

“Why can’t you get along?” 

Louis thinks about Harry, then. And not because he wants to, but because Zayn is kind of putting him on the spot. He pictures him in his mind; his long legs, the lean muscles in his back, the brown curls that shape his face. He sees a doe-eyed smile that is reserved for anyone but Louis and a loud, obnoxious laugh that often comes with it. 

Louis shakes the whole image away, realizing he’s been silent for way too long. 

“We’re just too different.” 

Zayn doesn’t appear satisfied with his answer, but he leaves it at that.

**

“Faster, Tomlinson!”

It’s an ungodly hour in the morning and they’re doing sprints. Gigi and Lauren are sitting nearby, waiting their turn, while Zayn, Louis and Harry run up and down the dojang. Louis is fast, but Harry is faster. They stay close to each other as they run, until the final short spurt, when Harry takes off, leaving Louis slightly behind. 

When they finish, they’re both out of breath. Zayn isn’t far behind them. 

“Hot, Louis?” Harry asks, grabbing his water bottle. 

Louis shoots him a look. But before he can say anything, Harry is pointing his squeeze bottle right at Louis’ chest. Louis’ hands fly up to cover himself, but he’s too late. Harry has already squeezed, and there’s water soaking through his t-shirt. 

Biting his tongue, he lets Harry laugh about it. “I’m gonna go clean myself up,” he mumbles, heading to the locker room.

Zayn finishes his sprints just as Louis is walking away. He calls after him, and Louis can hear him chastising Harry lightly, even as he gets further away. But he also hears both of them snickering, which he chooses to ignore. 

It’s a problem, really. Zayn and Harry are actually friends. Thinking about it makes Louis upset, because Zayn is supposed to be _his_ friend. Now, he’s alone in the locker room, using the hand dryer to try and air out his top. He looks up to the mirror, and Harry’s locker catches his eye. 

Louis forgets about his wet shirt and marches over to Harry’s locker, then pulls out his t-shirt to change into afterwards. He doesn’t stop to think; just walks it over to the showers, throws it on the ground, and turns the water on, then back off again quickly. He walks out of the locker room feeling much better. 

The girls are still doing their sprints when he comes out, so he wanders over to where Zayn and Harry are sitting. 

Zayn gives him a look, silently asking if he’s alright, and Louis nods.

“Maybe that’ll get you to run faster next time,” Harry spits.

Louis can’t bite his tongue this time. 

“And maybe someday you’ll finally learn to run faster with your legs than your mouth.”

Harry doesn’t say anything after that. 

After some partnered target kicking drills with the girls, they stretch to cool down on their own time. Louis intentionally takes longer, and watches with a smirk when Harry gets up to go shower and change.

“What’s with you?” Zayn asks, still sitting beside Louis, stretching his legs.

“Nothing,” Louis twists his back to look away from Zayn, trying to hide his smile.

Not long later, Harry comes storming back out of the locker room. His soaked t-shirt has been wrung out, but it’s still wet, and balled up in one of his hands. 

“Louis!” He yells, and his tone is sharp.

“Yes, Harold?” Louis stands up to face him as he gets closer.

“That was a huge fucking overreaction,” he throws the wet t-shirt on the ground, making a heavy sound as it lands. “You’re so fucking dramatic, you know that?”

“Of course I do,” Louis answers politely.

“Ugh, Louis,” Zayn stands up next to him, picking up on what happened. 

Harry gets two hands on Louis’ shoulders and shoves him then. Louis just stumbles back and looks at him, mouth slightly open. They may bicker and argue and fight, but neither of them have ever gotten physical.

“Wow, I’ve silenced you for once.”

Louis steps closer to react, but is cut off by James’ voice bellowing in the studio from his small box office. 

“Tomlinson! Styles! Here. Now.”

They stare at each other a moment longer, before turning to walk towards James’ box office. Zayn walks to the locker room, annoyed by their antics, but probably still willing to wait for them. 

Louis and Harry stand shoulder to shoulder in James’ small office, space not big enough for three of them to be in there at once. James yells at them for a while, telling them the same old things about how they need to grow up and figure out how to behave around each other. But this time, his words have intent, and their punishment is a day of cleaning at the dojang.

Normally, Louis wouldn’t be opposed. He doesn’t mind cleaning the mirrors and mopping the floor. But to do that stuff alone with Harry? He’s not looking forward to it. 

He doesn’t dare protest, though. Louis simply hangs his head low when James dismisses them, lets Harry step out of the office first, and storms off to the locker room in silent anger. 

Harry isn’t far behind him. And just as Louis expected, Zayn is sitting on the bench inside, waiting for them. He’s wearing a sweater, which Louis immediately regards as a strange choice.

“Here,” he nods at Harry. “You can wear my shirt.”

Something burns inside of Louis.

“What?” He doesn’t realize the word slips out of his mouth automatically.

“Louis, relax,” Zayn shakes his head. “He needs something to wear.”

If Louis had thought Zayn was going to play the nice guy, he would have preferred if Zayn had just left without waiting for them. 

Zayn throws his t-shirt towards Harry, who catches it, a soft smile on his face. He thanks him, then walks back over to the showers. When the water starts running, Louis turns back to Zayn.

“Don’t even start,” Zayn whispers, cutting Louis off before he gets a word out. “I’m not playing your game, Louis. Harry is actually a good guy, and if you would stop spending every second thinking up reasons to hate him, maybe you would finally see that.”

Zayn still doesn’t let Louis say anything. Because he stands up and walks out the door. 

Louis thinks Zayn is just too nice. He always sees the good in everyone, even assholes like Harry. 

Defeated, he trudges over to the showers and takes the furthest possible stall from Harry. 

They shower in silence, the only sound filling the locker room being the water hitting the tile floor. Eventually, there’s a squeak of the tap and Harry is done. Louis follows shortly after, hating the idea of being the only one between them still showering. 

They get dressed in silence, too. The locker room is just a giant square, so there’s nowhere to hide. Louis faces his locker to get dressed, and Harry does the same. 

“Hey, Louis,” Harry says, turning around to face him just as Louis closes his locker door. “Can we-”

“I gotta go,” Louis cuts him off, turning to walk out. “You can lock up if James is gone. I’ll see you tomorrow for cleaning.” 

Louis pushes the door open and strides out before Harry can argue.

“James?” He calls, unsure as to whether or not he’s still around. 

“Yeah,” James answers from the front.

Louis walks over, bag slung over his shoulder.

“Did you guys talk it out in there?”

Louis stifles a laugh. He and Harry are too far past the point of ‘talking it out’. 

“No, and don’t hold your breath.”

A look of disappointment flashes across James’ face. Not in annoyance, but almost a sadness. Before Louis can analyze it any further, his face returns to a neutral state. 

Louis’ curiosity gets the best of him. “What does that look mean?” 

“Nothing,” James sighs. “Just hoping someday you guys will figure it out.” 

Nodding cautiously, Louis moves towards the door. “Maybe someday,” he lies. “Goodnight, James.”

James says goodnight, but stays behind, evidently waiting for Harry. Once again, Louis’ curiosity gets the better of him, so he lingers just outside the sliding glass door, hidden in the shadows. 

“Harry,” he hears James’ voice, softer than usual, followed by what sounds like sniffling.

Is Harry… crying?

“This is all your fault,” Louis recognizes the voice as Harry’s, but the tone is unfamiliar. 

Once he hears a choked out sob, he decides he’s heard enough. Louis spins on his heel and flies down the stairs faster than ever before. He unlocks his car and gets in, closing the door behind him as fast as he can, as if he’s being chased by the sounds of Harry’s crying. And maybe he is, in some strange way. Why is his heart racing? 

He’s gripping the steering wheel tight when he realizes he hasn’t started the ignition yet. 

“Focus,” he mumbles. “What’s wrong with you?”

_What’s wrong with Harry?_

_And what’s all James’ fault?_

Louis turns the key and throws the car in drive, desperate to get as far away as possible from what he just sort-of witnessed. 

**

Louis enjoys living alone. He has his own space, and he’s never coming home to anyone expecting anything from him, nor is he ever waiting on anybody to get home. So when he walks in the door of his apartment, he feels no guilt about throwing his stuff on the floor and walking straight to the fridge to grab a snack before taking his usual spot on the couch. 

He curls up and turns the TV on, which goes right to his streaming service of choice. Louis doesn’t bother paying for cable, doesn’t see the point. The television brightens, and the glow from the screen lights up the room. He resumes the new show he’s started recently.

The mind-numbing aspect of this show is why he chose it in the first place, but tonight it’s somehow working too well. Louis can’t focus on the show at all; just keeps hearing the sounds of Harry’s stupid crying in his head. 

Harry is so obnoxious; of course he’s in Louis’ head when he’s just trying to relax in his own home. Louis squints his eyes, desperate to focus on the show in front of him. 

When that doesn’t work, he pulls out his phone. He pauses the TV and dials Zayn’s number. It feels like it rings forever, until finally, _finally,_ Zayn picks up.

“Uh, hello?”

Except that’s not Zayn’s voice on the other end of the line. Louis thinks this must be some kind of sick and twisted joke the universe is playing on him. 

“Where’s Zayn?” 

There’s a pause for a moment. “He’s in the bathroom. Did you want to wait for him?”

Does that mean making small talk with Harry until he comes back?

“No, just tell him I called,” Louis mutters, then hangs up the phone and angrily throws it across the couch.

Why is Zayn with him anyways? Louis knows Zayn always says there are no sides and that Harry ‘actually isn’t that bad’, but lately it sure feels like Zayn is spending far more time defending and hanging around Harry than he is Louis. 

And where are they? It’s one thing to be in public together, but it’s something else altogether to be at each other’s apartments. How close are they, exactly?

Not that Louis cares. 

Louis falls asleep on the couch waiting for a callback from Zayn that never comes. 

**

The next morning, Louis wakes up with a kink in his neck and it puts him in a bad mood immediately. What puts him in a worse mood, however, is checking his phone and realizing he has to go meet Harry at the gym in an hour. 

He stretches himself out when he stands up, puts on a pot of coffee in the kitchen, then goes to take a shower. He makes it quick, not wanting to spend enough time inside that allows his thoughts to get the best of him. Because currently, being so close to going to spend time alone with Harry, he’s not in the right mindset. 

Louis dries himself off quickly and gets dressed, wearing sweatpants and an old t-shirt. He drinks his coffee, straight black, and far too quickly. But he doesn’t have _time._ And he _needs_ the energy. Being in the same space as Harry is draining; it exhausts Louis each time. 

He grabs his bag and slips on his shoes, then walks out of his apartment with one final sigh. 

**

Twenty minutes later, Louis is walking into the dark and empty dojang. He knows he’s a little bit early, but he’s still annoyed that Harry isn’t there yet. He drops his bag in James’ small box office, then goes to the cleaning supply closet in the back. He takes it upon himself to make the executive decision that they’ll wash the mirrors first. 

Louis’ eyes scan the shelves in front of him, quickly landing on a roll of paper towel. He takes it from in front of him then continues searching for the glass cleaner. Eventually, he finds it on the tallest shelf. As he starts to reach for it, about to step on a box for some extra height, a voice startles him from a few feet back.

“Maybe you should let me grab it,” Harry says mockingly, as he steps inside the small closet, getting way too close to Louis for his liking. “Don’t want you to fall and hurt yourself or anything like that.”

Louis turns to look at him, boxed in between the shelves and Harry. 

Harry stares right back at him, eyes burning into Louis’, as he reaches one arm up and behind Louis, grabbing the bottle from the high shelf with ease. 

Louis wishes he could kick the smug look right off his face. But unfortunately, they’re here to clean, not train. The only satisfaction he’ll get for now is the mental image.

Harry turns around and walks out of the small room then, out of Louis’ space. Louis takes a moment to allow his breathing to return to normal before following. 

He blames it on being so crowded.

When he gets back into the training area and sees Harry already spraying the mirrors, Louis realizes how tightly he’s clutching the paper towel to his chest. He forces himself to ease up a little, then follows along Harry, wiping where he’s already been.

They work in silence mostly, Louis always a couple steps behind Harry, until Harry finally opens his mouth. Of course, it’s to criticize Louis.

“You’re leaving streaks everywhere.”

Louis looks up and back at the mirrors he’s already done. Harry’s right, and he can’t argue.

“Well if you think you can do it better, then be my guest,” he pushes the roll of paper towels into Harry’s chest and snatches the spray bottle from his hands. 

They clean in silence after that. Moving in sync like they’ve done it before. It doesn’t feel much later when Louis finally looks up at the clock, only to realize they’ve been working for two hours already. 

“Alright,” he sighs, brushing his hands together. “I’m done.” 

“Okay,” Harry’s voice startles him after not having heard it for so long. “I’ll lock up. Gonna train for a bit.”

Of course Harry would train afterwards. That’s exactly the kind of thing he would do, just to show Louis how much better than him he is. 

“Whatever,” Louis mutters, already walking towards the box office. He grabs his bag then turns to walk out. 

He may or may not linger outside the door long enough to hear Harry’s music kick in through the speakers. Once he sees Harry starting to run, he walks away and doesn’t look back again. 

**

Louis has an easier time waking up to his early alarm this weekend. His body is already adapting, remembering it needs to shut down earlier at night in order to restart earlier in the morning.

As if on cue, his phone rings, Zayn calling to make sure he’s awake.

“Good morning,” Louis answers.

“Good morning to you, too,” Zayn says. “You sound very awake.”

“What can I say? I’m ready to go.”

“Good, because I’ll be there in thirty.”

Louis hangs up the phone and starts his morning process. Shower. Change. Water bottle. Bag. It’s all so familiar. By the time Zayn is texting him to say he’s arrived, Louis is already locking his apartment door. 

The tournament is local, but on the other end of the city, making the drive nearly an hour long. Louis doesn’t mind, though; he loves a good highway drive at dawn. 

“Hey, you missed the exit,” Louis sits straight up in his seat.

“Relax,” Zayn looks over at him, before turning his eyes back to the road. “I told Harry we’d pick him up.”

Louis stares at Zayn while he stares at the road, explicitly averting his eyes from Louis’ gaze.

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, Louis. It’s pretty far. Why make him drive himself when he’s on the way?”

“You guys are really close now, then.”

“Louis,” Zayn shakes his head. “That’s not what this is about.”

“But it kind of is. You guys hanging out in secret, whispering when you think I can’t hear…” Louis trails off, staring out the window but turns around quickly when the idea hits him. “No way. You guys are dating.”

Zayn laughs loudly. “No,” he continues laughing. “We’re friends, Louis.”

Louis shifts uncomfortably in his seat. Something still doesn’t sit right with him.

“Look, if it bothers you so much, why don’t we try to set something up for tonight? After the tournament. I’ll get Liam in on it, and maybe Harry could get Niall. Then it won’t just be the three of us, with me playing the mediator while you think I’m taking his side over yours.”

Louis just nods. “Yeah,” he forces a verbal agreement out. “That would be good.”

He forces himself to shake it off as they pull up outside Harry’s apartment building. Zayn pulls out his phone and rings his number quickly. 

“Hey, Harry. We’re outside.”

Louis can’t hear what’s said on the other end. 

“Yeah,” Zayn looks over at Louis. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Zayn hangs up the phone and doesn’t say anything after that. Just a minute later, Harry is jogging towards Zayn’s car, heading straight for the backseat. 

“Morning, boys,” he says, as he closes the door behind him. “Starting to get chilly out there.”

“Good morning,” Zayn replies politely at the same time as Louis mumbles more or less the same greeting. 

Louis plugs in his phone and presses play on his usual competition morning playlist. 

The drive is mostly silent, until Zayn brings up his brilliant plan for the evening.

“So, Harry, do you have plans tonight?” Zayn looks into his rearview mirror to catch eyes with Harry.

“I don’t think so,” he shakes his head.

“Well, I was thinking maybe we could all get together. I’ll call Liam at some point, and you could invite Niall. The five of us could hang out, if you want.”

“I’d like that,” Harry smiles at Zayn, before it turns into a smirk directed at Louis. “What do you think, Louis?”

Louis turns around in his seat. “I’m down, too.” He flashes Harry a forced grin. 

Harry just stares at him for a moment longer. 

“Good.”

“So, what would you want to do?” Zayn speaks again, still directing the question at Harry. 

“I’m good for whatever, you know me,” he laughs. “I’m easy.”

_You know me? He knows you? You know him?_

“Believe me,” Louis scoffs. “You are not easy.”

“Louis,” Zayn warns. 

“It’s fine,” Harry sits back. “Maybe he’s right.”

Louis stares out the window the rest of the way and doesn’t say another word on the matter. 

**

“Let’s go, Zayn!” Louis yells from the sidelines. 

The best part about local competitions is the much more relaxed atmosphere. People are allowed to gather in close and yell from just outside the ring, with no limitation on how many team members are allowed nearby. So, they all get to stand around to support one another.

The girls join in, encouraging Zayn loudly as he keeps his cool in the third round of his match. In the end, they erupt in cheers and applause as the referee declares Zayn the winner. They continue clapping as Zayn shakes hands with his opponent and his coach before returning over to be hugged quickly and firmly by James. 

“Great fight, Z,” Louis punches him lightly in the chest gear when he finally walks over. 

“It was pretty good, wasn’t it?” Zayn smiles sheepishly.

“Yeah,” Louis smiles back, wrapping an arm around his shoulder to walk with him to his duffel bag. “Have you been getting some extra training in, or what?”

Louis realizes afterwards that question may come across as rude, but it’s still Zayn, and he just shrugs it off, knowing Louis didn’t mean anything by it. 

“Well, actually, yeah, kind of.”

Louis shifts his body slightly to look at Zayn while keeping his arm slung around him. “Hm?”

“I’ve been working with Harry a bit. Just whenever we’re both free.”

_That’s weirdly nice of him._

“Louis, I don’t want to just be good at poomsae, anymore. This year, I want to travel with you guys and spar. I want a shot at nationals. I really think I can do it.”

Louis feels like he might cry.

“Zayn, I know you can do it,” Louis kisses him dramatically on the cheek. “And you’re never just been good at poomsae. You’ve just been better at it than me and Harry.”

“Thanks, Lou.” 

Louis unties Zayn’s gear for him while he slips out of his arm and leg equipment. Sometime during their chat, Harry approaches, stepping around Louis to face only Zayn. 

“Nice work, Zayn,” he says in a smug way that makes Louis realize he should have known this whole time they were just training together. 

“Thanks.”

“So, I called Niall, and he’s good for whatever we’re doing tonight. But like, what are we doing tonight?” 

“Haven’t decided yet,” Zayn shrugs as Louis moves to stand beside him once again. “What do you think, Louis?”

“I don’t know,” Louis taps his foot. “Do we feel like staying in or going out?”

“Staying in,” Zayn says at the same time as Harry says, “going out.”

“Okay,” Louis claps his hands together. “Staying in it is.”

Harry looks offended, shaking his head with a questioning look on his face. 

“Shouldn’t the winner get to decide?” Louis drapes himself on Zayn. 

“I also won,” Harry mutters. “But fine.”

“Alright,” Zayn interjects, before the conversation has the chance to turn ugly. “Let’s go watch the girls, first.”

**

All in all, it’s a good day. Zayn wins in poomsae and sparring, Harry wins his division for sparring, and Louis does as well, considering him and Harry were split up this time around with there being more competitors registered. Gigi takes gold in poomsae and silver in sparring, Lauren takes silver in both, while Mack and Nat only compete in poomsae and both earn silver. 

And now, the boys are lounging around Zayn and Liam’s apartment. They’re all a couple of beers in, laughing about things that aren’t even that funny, like they’ve been friends for years. But Louis is feeling slightly buzzed and warm and he almost doesn’t even care that Harry is in the same room. 

Louis almost wonders why they haven’t done this before. 

“So, Louis. I hear you thought that me and Zayn were dating. Jealous?”

He remembers now, why they haven’t done this before. 

“Yeah, actually, because Zayn is all mine,” he leans into Zayn’s side on the couch. 

Harry looks up at them from where he’s sitting on the ground and shakes his head.

“You’re just mad you would never deserve a guy like Zayn,” Louis lets the words tumble out of his mouth without a second thought. 

“Hey, now…” Zayn tries to diffuse the growing tension, but Louis is too far gone.

“Actually, don’t think you’ve ever even had a chance. Never seen you in a relationship, Harry.”

“You’re one to talk,” Harry spits back, eyes narrowing now.

What could have been a light and fun conversation has once again become something of the contrary. 

“Okay,” Zayn pats his legs and stands up, forcing Louis to shift his weight off him. “You guys choose a movie. I’m putting some popcorn in and then slipping out for some air.”

Liam follows Zayn to the balcony, and Niall decides it would be a good time to use the washroom. 

Harry and Louis sit in silence. 

“Would you just…” Harry starts, without looking up at Louis. 

Louis just looks down at him expectantly. 

Harry is still staring off into space. “You’re just annoying, that’s all.”

“Excuse me?”

“Always playing offense with me,” Harry looks up. “Can’t leave anything alone.”

Louis scrambles off the couch to get on the ground in front of Harry, but loses his balance and grips Harry’s knee to recover. 

Harry doesn’t move. 

Louis recovers, looks at his hand, then pulls away and sits up straight to look Harry in the eyes. 

“Guys,” Niall says, reappearing from the washroom. “You could cut the tension in here with a knife.”

Zayn and Liam step back inside. 

“Louis,” Zayn says. “Would you like to join me back on the couch?” 

Without responding, Louis gets up and takes his seat back on the couch. Harry turns back to face the TV, and Zayn comes in and sits down with popcorn.

“Can’t leave you two alone for even a minute,” he whispers as he sits next to Louis, though Louis is pretty sure he wasn’t even talking directly to him. Moreso just speaking out loud. 

Louis reaches over and grabs a handful of popcorn, then leans back on the couch and pulls his feet up. He looks down at Harry, who’s paying close attention to the movie. He scans around, picks up on Liam and Niall’s quiet conversation, then looks over at Zayn who is already watching him. 

“See how nice this could be?” He asks, and this time Louis knows he’s expecting an answer.

He doesn’t get one. 

Instead, Louis turns his attention to the TV and leans back into Zayn’s side. 

Zayn doesn’t say anything else, but happily accepts Louis in his space. 

**

“This was fun, guys,” Liam and Zayn say at the door, as the three others are leaving.

“Harry, Louis, you’re both okay to drive?” 

They both nod. Louis wasn’t keeping track of Harry’s drinks, but he knows he only had two himself, and that was hours ago already. Niall had been picked up by a friend after the first movie ended, since he had to work early the next morning. 

“Okay,” Zayn says, smiling. “Goodnight, guys. Thanks for staying.”

“We’ll have to do it again, sometime,” Liam adds. 

They close the door as Louis and Harry both wave goodbye. In silence, they start to walk down the hall towards the elevator together. Only when they step inside and the doors close is the silence broken.

“So… You and Zayn are really only training together, right?” 

Louis doesn’t dare look over at Harry, though he can feel Harry’s eyes on him. He can also feel the smirk that’s growing on his face.

“Why do you care so much, Louis?” Harry prolongs the question, really dragging it out, to make Louis fully aware that he’s being smug. 

“No reason,” Louis replies quickly, then steps outside the elevator as soon as the doors are open, trying to escape the conversation as fast as possible.

But then he stops, thinks, and remembers. Louis closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

“What?” Harry asks, once he catches up to where Louis is standing just inside the front entrance. 

_I don’t want to._

“I should probably drive you home.”

_But it’s the right thing to do._

“What? Why?” Harry shakes his head. 

“Because I know you’re a bit of a lightweight, Harry.”

Harry has one hand on the door, ready to leave. 

“And how would you know that?”

“Because I pay attention,” Louis retaliates, looking Harry right in the eyes to tell him he’s being serious.

“To me?” Harry’s eyes widen as he points at himself. “As if,” he scoffs. But still, Harry purses his lips together. “But maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad idea,” he admits softly. 

Harry follows Louis to his car and doesn’t say anything as Louis opens the door to his backseat.

“Come on, now,” Louis says, gesturing inside. Once Harry climbs in, Louis closes the door and walks around to get into the driver’s seat. 

He puts the key in the ignition and gets it started. While he waits for it to warm up, he sends Zayn a text.

_Driving Harry home. His car will still be here tomorrow._

_11:43 pm_

Louis tucks his phone away. “Ready?”

“Yeah,” Harry says casually. 

Louis shifts gears into drive, then takes the route to Harry’s as if he knows it by heart. He puts the car in park right outside the main entrance, not too worried about blocking the parking lot at this hour. Harry is jumping out as soon as Louis is stopped, but he holds the door open and sticks his head inside. Louis twists his body to look at him.

“You’re not going to come inside, Louis?” 

Harry’s voice is dripping with sarcasm, and Louis wouldn’t expect anything less.

“Bite me,” Louis offers.

Harry almost laughs.

“Go drink some water and go to bed,” Louis instructs, tone more gentle now. 

“Thanks for the ride,” Harry says, avoiding Louis’ eyes. 

“Goodnight, Harry,” is what he says in response.

“Goodnight, Louis.”

Harry closes the car door and turns around, walking into the building without looking back. Louis doesn’t see him again for a whole week, when he’s completely sober, and no longer alone.


	2. october

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry brings someone new, and the boys start really hanging out as a group of 5.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading and continuing ! this chapter ends with halloween, and there is a haunted house scene that is overall more over the top than an average haunted house, so feel free to skip it if you want !!

A new month brings a change in the weather and a new relationship for Harry. 

It’s only a week after the evening in Zayn’s apartment that Nick shows up for the first time. 

“Who is that?” Zayn asks quietly, out of breath as they finish their kicking drill. 

Louis turns towards the front entrance to see a man lingering in the doorway, leaning on the frame to watch. While Louis and Zayn are still looking, he brings his hand up to wave. Louis turns quickly to see who it’s directed towards, only to find Harry standing behind them, waving back at the stranger.

“Oh,” Zayn says smugly. “I see.”

Louis turns back to look at the man before locking his eyes on Harry again. James calls them over to gather, the same way they end all of their group training sessions. They stomp twice, clap once, and yell _sipjin._ Everyone breaks off, and Louis keeps an eye on Harry, who goes directly to the front entrance. 

“Stop staring,” Zayn startles him from behind. 

“I’m not,” Louis defends, turning his head away, but unable to stop himself from watching in the mirror as the stranger kisses Harry on the cheek before Harry turns around and walks away.

“Okay, sure,” Zayn answers sarcastically, rolling his eyes. He wraps an arm around Louis’ shoulder and guides him to the locker room. 

Harry looks up at them as they enter but doesn’t say anything.

“Who’s your new friend, Harry?” Louis asks sharply, feeling an inherent need to know.

Harry shoots him a fake smile. “He’s my boyfriend, and his name is Nick.”

“Oh, interesting…” 

“Why is that interesting, Louis?” Harry snarls. 

Louis just shrugs, knowing it will drive Harry crazier to not know what he’s thinking. 

“Whatever,” Harry zips up his bag and throws it over his shoulder, then starts to head out. 

“Wait,” Zayn jumps in, after having stayed silent the whole time. “I want to meet him.”

Harry actually smiles. “Sure,” he nods towards the door. “Come on.”

Zayn leaves Louis behind as he goes with Harry to meet his very sudden new boyfriend. Louis hops in the shower and stays under the warm water until he hears the swing of the locker room door. He turns the shower off, wraps his towel around his waist and steps out of the stall. Zayn turns to look at him.

“Well?” 

Louis isn’t even sure what he’s expecting Zayn to say in response.

“Well what?”

“I don’t know,” Louis answers honestly. 

“He seems nice, if that’s what you’re asking. He’s taking Harry to dinner tonight.”

Louis nods along. Maybe that was what he was asking, even if he doesn’t care. 

Zayn sighs. “You wanna come to mine tonight?”

Louis smiles. “Sounds good.”

**

The two of them end up wasting the night away on Zayn’s couch.

“Do you ever regret not going to school?” Zayn asks suddenly, looking over at Louis. 

“No,” Louis doesn’t need to think about it. “I’m really happy with where I am right now.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Okay.”

“What about you? Do you regret it?”

Zayn pauses for a moment. “I don’t think so. I mean, there’s nothing that says I can’t go once I decide I’m done with,” he gestures in the air. “All of this.”

“That’s true.”

“But maybe I wouldn’t even have to. Liam has mentioned getting me a position at his bar, and honestly, it sounds like fun and it makes good money. Maybe I’m set for life.”

Louis laughs. “I think you are.”

They sit in silence after that, but it isn’t necessarily a comfortable one; Louis’ mind is running a mile a minute, unable to stop the questions rolling in about his future. What if it doesn’t work out? He doesn’t have a back-up for his back-up like Zayn does. And he did alright in school, but maybe not well enough for universities to take him after a long break. Maybe he could convince Liam to get the both of them on at his bar. Louis doesn’t think he’s above the service industry; he spent a few winters working a seasonal job for a catering company to make a little extra money. So he’s even got some experience. 

“What are you thinking about?” Zayn snaps him out of his thought-trance. 

“Nothing,” he lies. “Just about how much longer things are going to be the same.”

“Hey,” Zayn puts a gentle hand on his arm. “I’ll stick around as long as you do.”

The words are genuinely comforting to Louis. 

Zayn leans forward and grabs his dinner plate off the coffee table and finishes what’s left of his rice and brussel sprouts before standing up and reaching for Louis’ empty plate.

“Thanks,” Louis calls out as Zayn takes their plates into the kitchen and to the sink. He hears the sink turn on the rinse them briefly, before the dishwasher is opened and closed again. 

Zayn returns to the living room and grabs the remote before flopping down on the couch. 

“Hey,” Louis says, before Zayn can turn anything on.

“Yeah?” Zayn turns his body towards Louis, giving him his full attention once again. 

Louis pauses, then shakes his head.

“I’m just so grateful you’re my friend, Zayn.”

It’s not what he wanted to say. Not even close, really. But the words are still true. Zayn is the best friend he could ever ask for. 

Zayn smiles. “Me too, Louis. You’re my best friend.”

And Louis knows he means it, because when he opens his arms for Louis to fall into, he doesn’t even need an explanation. Which is perfect, because Louis doesn’t know why he’s sad, either. 

**

“So, how was dinner last night?” Zayn asks as they’re all stretching together.

“Oh, Harry had a date?” Gigi teases, not having been at training the previous night to see for herself.

“It was fine,” Harry shrugs, but the smile on his face says otherwise.

Louis ignores the whole conversation and continues stretching his legs. 

“How serious is it?” Lauren pushes further. 

Louis folds himself in half and rolls his eyes when nobody can see his facial expression anymore.

_It’s been one week, max. How serious could it be?_

“I don’t know,” Harry says. “It hasn’t been very long, but he’s really nice.”

“Alright,” James interrupts. “Let’s go.”

They had already done their intense warm-up before stretching. They cycle through a few different ones, but today was one of Louis’ favourites, because it didn’t involve sprinting. After their eight minute run, they did some jump training. 

James has them line up along the mirrors to do back and forth drills. They start with balance, holding one leg up for a cut kick all the way to the other end of the gym, then switching legs on the way back. They do the same thing going backwards. Then, they do some footwork. Shuffling forwards and cutting the angle, backwards and cutting the angle. They partner up and work on cutting the distance to land a punch on the chest gear. After many drills, they put on their gear.

“Alright, light contact, no head shots right now,” James instructs, and they all nod, understanding the rules when there are no helmets being worn. “First match is right leg only.”

Louis loves doing limited sparring.

“Zayn and Gigi, first.” 

The two bow to each other in the middle before starting their quick match. When they aren’t explicitly worried about endurance, they only ever do quick and intense one-minute rounds. Standard for competitions is three rounds, lasting two minutes each, with one minute in between. They’re long and exhausting, so they don’t always practice them that way. Because that’s how mistakes happen. When you’re tired, you lose focus. And that’s when injuries happen. The only one of them who’s ever been quite seriously injured was Zayn, who needed knee surgery at eighteen to repair the damage that occurred. But he worked hard to recover on the sidelines at training and was back again the next year. 

“Time,” James calls, and the two are giggling about something Louis missed. “Louis and Lauren, your turn. Quick switchovers, guys.”

The two hustle into the middle and bow before getting started immediately. Lauren is a good fighter; she’s got great balance and control, but Louis has speed. He moves in and out quickly, landing light shots whenever he can. Lauren fights hard and scores a few times, too. 

“Time,” James calls, and Louis the two bow before running off to the sideline. “Zayn and Harry, you’re up.” 

Zayn and Harry take their place and get going. 

“When did Zayn get so good?” Gigi asks.

“He’s always been good,” Louis defends. 

“Right,” Lauren jumps in. “But he’s gotten a lot better since he started training with Harry.”

Louis nods. He can’t deny it; Zayn has improved a lot. He’s quicker and looks more comfortable in a match. He trusts his instincts and goes with them a lot easier than he did before. 

“Time,” James calls, just as Zayn lands a clean point in the centre of Harry’s chest gear, letting the sound echo around them. 

“Alright, Lauren and Gigi.”

They rotate on and off, all taking turns sparring one another, with James changing the instructions up once everyone has participated in the previous one. Left leg only, no hands, one partner offense only while the other partner is defense only. It goes on. 

Once they’re done the drill, James tells them to put their helmets on, and they finish up with headshot work. Lauren and Gigi work together, while Zayn, Harry and Louis rotate with one another. They work on close distance only, to swing a leg around and over a shoulder. Meanwhile, the other partner works on avoiding the attack. 

After a while, James calls it a night. Louis glances up at the clock. It’s only quarter after eight. 

They all take off their gear and head straight for the showers. While Louis is packing up his stuff and taking out his clothes to bring to the shower, he sees Harry pull out his phone. 

“Nick?” Zayn asks, noticing the same thing.

“What?” Harry looks up. “Oh, yeah.”

Louis walks over to the showers and closes the stall door behind him. His hope is that he’ll be out before Harry so he can leave without seeing him again. 

Luckily for him, it works. He’s able to slip out before Harry is out of the shower. Unfortunately, that means running into Nick in the parking lot. Alone. 

“Hey,” Nick says, as Louis tries to slip past him. “It’s Louis, right?”

_How did you know that?_

“Yeah, nice to meet you, Nick.”

Louis shakes his hand politely. 

“So have you known Harry a long time?”

“You could say too long,” Louis laughs, so Nick thinks he’s joking. “How about you? When did you guys meet?”

“Nice,” Nick nods. “Yeah, we met earlier this year. Only decided to ask him out a few weeks ago, though. I think he’s not quite fully convinced yet.”

“Oh?”

“Well, he had said no. But then last weekend he called me and said he changed his mind.” 

Louis can’t process any of what Nick’s saying right now. Not that he cares to, anyways. 

Nick looks up the stairs, so Louis does the same. Harry is standing there, frozen, looking at Louis and Nick standing together. He seems to snap out of it, puts on a smile, then starts to come down. 

“I better go,” Louis turns back around to face Nick. “Good luck.”

“See you around, Louis!” Nick calls after him as he’s already walking away.

_God, I hope not._

**

Louis wakes up early to go for a morning run. It’s getting colder and he probably won’t be able to do it for much longer. He puts on his leggings and his thermal shirt, then adds a second layer with some shorts and a sweater. He pulls his socks over his pants and laces up his shoes, grabs his keys off the counter and heads out. By the time he’s in the elevator, he’s got his headphones in and he’s focused. 

He steps outside and breathes in the brisk air of the morning. The sun is spilling out from behind a cloud, slowly rising for the day. Once he reaches the road, he starts to jog. Moving towards the nearby lake, following his typical running path, he picks up his pace and turns up the volume in his headphones. 

Louis prefers not to think when he runs; he likes to let the music push him and block everything else out. But this morning, he can’t seem to stop worrying about something he can’t even describe. It’s simply his brain screaming _you’re running out of time_ except he doesn’t know what for. 

_You’re running out of time,_ it says, over and over, in his own voice. 

_For what?_

_You’re running out of time,_ it repeats, over and over, until it evolves and no longer sounds like his voice. 

Suddenly, Harry is screaming at Louis that he’s running out of time. 

Louis stops running and comes to a complete halt. He catches his breath and looks around, realizes there’s nobody nearby, and starts to run again, hoping he can escape the terrifying sound. 

By the time he gets back to his apartment, the voice is long forgotten, but the thought remains: _what am I running out of time for?_

He thinks about it as he showers.

He thinks about it as he works.

He thinks about it as he eats. 

Throughout the day, as long as he’s actively trying to forget about it, he thinks about it. 

Louis chalks it up to the stress of competition season. 

**

On top of training, Louis works two jobs: the first is for James, doing admin work in his free time, to cover the cost of his training. The second is driving for a third party delivery app, to pay his bills outside of the gym. He likes it well enough; it’s flexible and casual, meaning he can choose his own schedule and never has to worry about missing days for a tournament. It also makes pretty good money, with tips on top of the wage and gas money. 

Louis picks up an evening shift that he can work after his individual afternoon session with James. 

“What time do you need to be out of here?” James asks as Louis is warming up.

“About five.” 

“Ah, the dinner rush,” James smiles.

“I’ve got rent to pay,” Louis brushes it off, though that’s exactly why he chose the shift. 

“Louis,” James says, sounding deep in thought. “Why don’t you come work for me?”

“I already work for you, James,” Louis laughs. 

“No,” James shakes his head. “I mean. Keep doing the admin stuff from home…” he trails off. “But why don’t you take on some of the kids classes? You could start leading some of them.”

Louis stops what he’s doing and looks at James. “Are you being serious?”

“Yeah,” James nods. “Keep the driving job. Something like one shift a week, a little extra cash. But yeah, why don’t you teach a few classes? We can figure out a schedule,” he pauses, then continues before Louis can say anything. “And, we’ll discuss a wage that works for you. I don’t want you ever struggling, so we can take a look at your monthly bills and go from there, yeah? So, admin work will cover training fees, teaching will pay. What do you think?”

Louis shakes his head in disbelief. “James, I don’t even know what to say right now.”

James smiles at him as Louis approaches to give him a quick hug. 

“Thank you,” is the best he can come up with. “Really. Thank you.”

“Alright, let’s focus on training for today and then figure this out soon,” James pats him on the shoulders and turns him around before sending him on his way to do some sprints. 

And the whole time he’s doing them, he can’t wipe the grin off his face. 

**

“So you’re going to be teaching now?” Liam asks, leaning forward slightly to be heard over the noise at the bar.

The six of them are crammed into one booth while Liam is taking his break, picking at some nachos he had the kitchen make before coming out to join them. 

“Yeah,” Louis smiles. “I’m really excited.”

“That’s awesome, Lou,” Zayn nudges gently from beside him.

“To Louis,” Niall raises his beer, and everyone does the same, including Harry, who isn’t being that much of a jerk while Nick is around. 

“To Louis,” they all echo, clinking their glasses and bottles. 

“Thanks,” Louis can feel the heat rising to his cheeks with all the attention on him. 

“So,” Nick cuts in, clearly about to ask a question. “Harry was telling me that you guys often compete against each other.”

At the mere mention of Harry’s name, Louis tenses up before turning to look at Nick and plastering on a smile. 

“What’s that like? Considering you’re not even friends.”

Despite it being an honest interjection, Louis feels like the air’s been sucked out of his lungs. He looks over at Harry, who is slinking down into the booth, eyes locked on the table, avoiding the conversation at all costs. But Louis knows he can feel the glare being thrown his way.

“Well,” Louis laughs. “We’re all sitting here together, aren’t we?”

Nick nods, looking more confused than before.

“But it’s fine, really,” Louis blurts out. “Nothing wrong with some healthy competition.”

Zayn laughs from beside Louis. “Healthy?”

With that, Liam excuses himself to go back to work and Nick offers to go order another round of drinks at the bar. Louis leans back into the booth and sighs, then realizes Harry’s gaze is still directed at the table. 

“I need a smoke,” Louis mutters.

“You don’t smoke during competition season,” Zayn comments.

“I know,” Louis pauses. “But I need a smoke.”

Zayn follows him outside, leaving Harry and Niall alone at the table. As they walk away, Louis can hear Harry speaking in a hushed voice, but he doesn’t give him the satisfaction of turning around. Zayn pats him on the shoulder, as if to approve of his decision. Once outside, Louis wraps his arms around himself. 

“It really is starting to get cold,” he reaches in his back pocket for his pack of smokes and extends it in front of him, offering one to Zayn.

“Oh, you were serious? I didn’t actually think you were smoking,” Zayn laughs.

Louis simply gestures to the pack in his hand once more. 

Zayn looks as if to consider it. “Let’s just share, yeah?”

Louis nods, then pulls out one cigarette along with his lighter. He puts it in his mouth and covers it with his hand as he lights it. He inhales deeply and then holds it a moment before letting it out and passing it over to Zayn, who takes it without acknowledging that he also doesn’t smoke during competition season. Instead, he takes a puff.

“Healthy competition,” Zayn shakes his head, recalling the conversation that led to this poor decision.

“Shut up,” Louis pushes his shoulder lightly. “What else am I supposed to tell his boyfriend?”

“I don’t know,” Zayn passes Louis the smoke. “Maybe the truth?”

“Which is?” Louis raises his eyebrows as he exhales. 

Zayn pauses, thinking. “That it’s not very good.”

“Why do you think Harry even told him that, anyways?” Louis steers the topic in another direction.

“Well,” Zayn reaches for the cigarette. “It’s pretty obvious. Besides, why would he lie?”

Louis shrugs as Zayn throws the cigarette to the ground and stomps it out, before bending over to pick it up and throw it out. They walk back inside and turn the corner to find Nick and Harry alone in the booth, kissing like there’s nobody else in the room. 

Zayn clears his throat as they approach, and Harry pulls away immediately, looking embarrassed. 

“Where’s Niall?”

“Bathroom,” Nick answers. “Got you guys another beer.”

“Thanks,” Louis and Zayn both say as they slide back into their seats across from the other two. 

Liam walks by quickly and knocks on the table to get their attention. 

“Keep it in your pants in my bar, please,” he smiles.

Nick raises his hands in surrender and Harry smiles politely at Liam before turning away. 

Louis can feel his eyes roll automatically, and then tries to cover it up by taking a sip of his fresh drink. 

_Of course Nick has bad taste in beer._

Niall returns, and it weirdly feels like his presence balances everything out, lifting a weight Louis didn’t know was there. They spend the rest of the night chatting and picking at whatever free food Liam brings them any time he gets a chance to sit for a few minutes. After many hours and three beers, they decide to do one more round before heading out. Niall had bought the first round, Nick, the second, and Zayn, the last. Harry and Louis both make a move at the same time to buy the final one. 

“I got it,” Louis insists, already squeezing past Zayn to get out of the booth.

“No, it’s fine,” Harry does the same, climbing over Nick on the other side. 

“This is interesting,” Zayn whispers across to Niall, still loud enough for Louis to hear. 

They both walk towards the bar, arguing the whole way there. 

“Louis, just let me pay.”

“No, Nick already paid for one. You can’t both buy a round.”

They reach the bar and continue to bicker as the bartender comes over to serve them. 

“Think of it as your day,” Harry argues. “We’re celebrating your new position at the gym, so you don’t get to buy.”

“The classic argument of who’s buying,” the bartender speaks up, making them both look over. She looks at Louis, then at Harry, then back at Louis. “He your boyfriend?” 

“No,” they both answer forcefully. 

She puts her hands up. “Okay, okay.”

Harry and Louis turn back to face each other.

“Fine,” Louis shakes his head. “But I have cash on me, so I’ll cover the tip, alright?” 

“Just the tip, right?” Harry smirks.

_Did Harry just make a joke?_

Louis can’t help but laugh as he pulls out his wallet. “Just, pick something good. Your boyfriend has shit taste in beer.”

Harry laughs unexpectedly. “Yeah, I’ll pick something better.”

Louis puts cash down on the bar counter as Harry orders, before turning to walk back to the booth. 

“Wait, so that one really isn’t your boyfriend?” Louis hears the bartender ask as he walks away.

Louis makes the mistake of turning around to look, only to find Harry looking at him. 

“No,” Louis hears as he turns back around. “That’s actually the best we’ve gotten along since I met him five years ago.”

Judging by the look on Zayn’s face as he nears their booth, Louis knows he’s going to be giving him a rundown of that whole interaction later. 

Harry returns a few minutes later with five draught beers.

He sets them down on the table before sliding back into his spot. 

“Last round,” he reaches for the handle of his mug and holds it up.

Louis takes a sip, then raises his mug and clashes it against Harry’s. “Best round.”

Five minutes later, they’re back to bickering again, both seeming ready to actually fight at any given moment. 

**

“Alright,” Louis claps his hands together, right on the hour. “Let’s gather around.”

“Yes, sir!” All the students yell before running towards him.

“Woah,” Louis laughs with his hands up.

_I remember those days._

The recreational program has a focus on discipline, which means “sir” and “ma’am” at all times. The competition program is where that kind of disappears and training is less structured. 

“Good answer,” Louis praises them, looking at each student. “And you’re all very quick. What’s left to teach you?”

Some of them stifle their giggles, unsure if it’s alright to laugh. 

“You guys can laugh, it’s okay,” Louis reassures them. “And,” he whispers, leaning in closer. “When nobody else is around, I’m just Louis, okay?”

They all nod along, excited at the prospect of the secret between them and their new instructor. 

Louis goes around the small circle and asks each of them for their name. He had looked at the class list beforehand and recognized every name, thanks to his admin work, but now he has to be able to match faces to those names. With such small class sizes, he hopes it won’t prove to be too difficult. 

And it doesn’t. 

“Get those knees up higher, Hannah!”

“Come on, now, Riley! You gotta stay focused!”

“Nice snap, Ashton!”

Before he knows it, the first class of the afternoon is over, and he only has two to go.

The second group is beginners, so he can’t even joke about having nothing left to teach them. He learns their names and also that most of them still hadn’t learned how to do a roundhouse kick. Upon that realization, that’s what Louis spends the rest of the hour working on. 

The last class is the most advanced group. The class is designed to be preparation for their black belt test. As with the other groups, he learns their names first. Originally, Louis intended to focus on their poomsae, but they had a lot of questions for him on his first day.

“How old were you when you got your black belt?”

“How did you join the competition team?”

“Who else is on the team?”

Louis takes his time answering every question they have. He knows how important it is; if they want to know about the competition team, that means they’re interested. 

“Okay, any more questions before we get started for real?” Louis looks around one last time.

A hand shoots up.

“Yes, Alex?”

“How come you and Harry sir always fight?”

“Well,” Louis starts. “Harry sir and I are in the same weight class, so-”

“No,” Alex interrupts, giggling. “I don’t mean sparring. I mean, how come you aren’t friends?”

Louis flies into a panic. How does she even know this?

“Of course we are,” he lies. “We’re just very intense. We train together lots, so we’re friends. Just like all of you.”

That seems to be an adequate answer, as they all look at each other and break into smiles.

“Alright, now let’s see your poomsae.”

**

At the end of the day, Louis tidies up, doing all the closing duties he’s known how to do forever. He locks the front door so nobody can come inside while he’s changing. After grabbing his bag from James’ box office, he carries it over to the locker room. Just as he’s stepping inside, he hears tapping on the glass door. Cautiously, he steps back far enough for him to see who’s there. 

_Of course._

Louis walks towards the door and slides it back open, just far enough for Harry to slip inside. 

“Relax,” Harry puts his hands in the air as a surrender. “I’m just here to train.”

Louis nods. “I was just heading out…”

“You don’t have to.”

“Hmm?”

“You can stay and train, if you want. You don’t have to leave just because I’m here.”

_Very assuming, but whatever._

“Yeah, okay.” Louis has no idea how much extra training Harry is doing when he isn’t around. And he can’t just give Harry that advantage, so he drops his bag on their small desk at the front. 

“How was teaching?” Harry asks conversationally. 

“Pretty good, actually.”

“Good.” 

Harry slips into the locker room and comes back out not long later, wearing his dobok pants and a t-shirt. 

“I’m choosing the music,” he smirks. 

They train in silence. Alone, but together. They run and they stretch and they kick and they jump rope and they kick some more. Louis can’t help but watch Harry through the mirrors; he is _good_. 

Eventually, they call it a night. They get dressed, still not breaking the silence, and slip out into the cool evening air, before parting ways to their cars. 

The whole way home, Louis thinks maybe he should have said something.

**

Louis isn’t even listening to whatever spiteful words Harry is throwing out during their five minute break. Instead, he’s watching his mouth moving and his hands flying in an articulate way. Is Harry always so animated?

Hoping to convey how he feels about what Harry said without admitting he wasn’t actually listening to whatever it was, Louis sticks up two middle fingers. Harry just shakes his head and rolls his eyes, so it couldn’t have been important. Louis shrugs, takes a sip of his water and heads back to the centre of the dojang to continue his drills, even before the break is over. 

Anything to get away from Harry. 

They finish training later in the evening, and as has become routine lately, Nick shows up to pick Harry up afterwards. James asks Louis to stay back a little longer, so Louis can only watch as Zayn and Harry walk out together, meeting Nick at the front entrance. He watches the way Nick wraps an arm around Harry and laughs along with Zayn. Louis watches until they disappear past the glass door and he can no longer see them.

“He seems happy, doesn’t he?” James startles him from behind, interrupting Louis’ trance.

_Sure, I guess._

“Is that why you asked me to stay?” 

“No,” James laughs. “I just wanted to know how yesterday’s classes went. I didn’t want to show up and have you feel like I’m smothering you or intruding at all. I trust you. So I just wanted to ask after the fact.”

Louis appreciates that greatly. 

“They were good,” Louis says honestly, and he almost wonders if he should mention that Harry showed up and how they managed to train together peacefully.

“Yeah?”

_Too late, the moment is gone._

“Yeah,” he nods. “I think they went pretty well. I didn’t do anything too intense. I just wanted to see their abilities. A lot of them have so much potential.”

“I know,” James agrees. “And now it’s up to you to bring it out of them.”

Suddenly, Louis is nervous about taking on this job. Is it more responsibility than he can handle? Maybe he didn’t think this through enough.

“Hey, relax,” James says, reading his facial expression. “You’re going to do great. The kids already look up to you, you know.”

“They do?”

“Of course. Some of them have been watching you compete for a couple of years already. They feel like they know you. And you’re like a bit of a celebrity to them. For you to be training them,” James shrugs, as if what he’s saying isn’t exactly what Louis needed to hear. “I’m sure they’re excited.”

Louis can’t bite back the smile on his face.

“Well, I hope I don’t disappoint them.”

**

“Go, Louis sir!”

Louis can hear the students cheering and yelling from the sidelines. He was initially against the idea of having them attend a local tournament in which Louis is competing, but James insisted, explaining it as an ‘essential part of black belt preparation’, which is definitely something Louis doesn’t recall from when he was younger. But he can’t argue with James, and of course the students were all for it, ecstatic to watch Louis fight. 

After winning his first match, Louis exits the ring, only to be immediately swarmed and slightly overwhelmed by five sets of small arms wrapping around his chest gear.

“Woah,” he stumbles back slightly at the force of it. “Thanks, kiddos.”

He can’t even lie and say he doesn’t love it; he’s glad his students are so supportive, despite it still only being his first month working with them. 

Zayn approaches him from behind and pats him on the back, silently congratulating him on the win. 

“Who’s that?” Keaton asks.

“That’s Zayn sir,” Alex says dreamily. “He’s Louis sir’s friend on the competition team. Before, he only really did poomsae, but he’s sparring this year, too,” she keeps talking, stars in her eyes, spitting out all the knowledge she has. 

_How does this one know everything?_

_And why is she star-struck over Zayn? Are we really like celebrities in their eyes?_

“Louis,” James calls from afar, then waves him over when Louis looks over. 

“Gotta go guys,” Louis smiles, patting two of them on the head. “But you’ll watch again later, right?”

They all nod their heads in unison.

“Good,” Louis says, leaning in. “Because I think you’re all my good luck charm.”

Louis can hear them giggling as he walks away. 

“Alright,” James says, as Louis joins Zayn, Harry, Lauren and Gigi in their semi-circle. “You’ve all won your first match, and you’re in divisions of eight today. That’s two more wins until the gold. Harry and Louis,” he darts his eyes between the two of them, as they look briefly at each other. “You can’t both win. That means I expect gold from one of you and silver from the other.”

They both nod.

“Alright,” James continues. “Stay warm. Stay sharp.”

Two stomps. One clap.

“Sipjin!”

They all separate; Harry heading off alone, Gigi and Zayn walking away together, and Louis hangs back with James. 

“Seems like your students are really proud of you.”

_My students._

“Yeah, it’s quite nice, actually,” Louis laughs, looking over towards where they’re all sitting together on the ground next to the bleachers. “I’m already looking forward to the day they’re competing and I’m watching them,” he admits. “Is that weird?”

James smiles and puts a hand on Louis’ shoulder. “No, Louis. I’m looking forward to that day for you, too. Now,” he squeezes gently. “You gonna beat Harry in front of them or what?” 

They all win their second match. Gigi, Lauren, and Zayn all go on to take the gold in their divisions. All that’s left for the day is the never-ending battle between Harry and Louis for gold in their division. They’re sitting in their chairs across from each other on either side of the ring and James is standing right in the middle, talking to the students who came along. 

Louis glances over and they start waving frantically. He chuckles, then resets his focus when the referee calls them into the ring. He puts his helmet on and bows to Harry before they begin. 

They fight hard. The match is close. The students are alternating between cheering when things get intense and complete silence when Harry and Louis aren’t interacting. Near the end of the third round, Louis pulls out whatever steam he has left to earn the final point in the last few seconds, giving him the win. They bow and shake hands before exiting the ring. Louis takes off his helmet and goes right to his students.

They chatter excitedly and stop suddenly. Louis turns and sees it’s because Harry has joined their little gathering. 

“It’s alright,” Harry laughs, looking at them. “You guys don’t have to be quiet just because I lost. Your coach beat me. That’s how it goes sometimes.”

“Harry sir,” Alex steps forward, revealing a notebook and pen she’d been holding. “I do the write-ups for the competition section of our monthly e-newsletter.”

_So that’s how she knows everything…_

“How does it feel to lose to Louis sir even though you beat him at the first competition of the season?” 

Louis is stunned and looks over to Harry to see him equally taken aback by the question. 

“Um,” he shakes his head. “It’s fine. We go back and forth.”

“Is it really fine?” Alex presses. “Even though you don’t like each other? Louis sir says you’re friends because you train together, but just training together doesn’t have to make you friends.”

Harry blinks rapidly as Louis buries his face in his hands. All the other students are still standing around, listening intently. 

“Why do you think we don’t like each other?” Harry flips it around. “Shouldn’t you believe Louis sir?” 

Louis watches as Alex scribbles in her notebook. 

“Rule number one,” Alex shakes her head, tapping her notebook rapidly with her pen. “Always check your facts for yourself and believe your own evidence.” 

“Okay,” Louis interrupts then. “Time for the medals,” he grabs Harry’s wrist. “Thank you, Miss Alex.”

Alex smiles and keeps writing in her notebook. She’s the oldest of the group, nearly fifteen, and the rest of the students see her as the leader. She’s smart and perceptive, and will definitely be a fierce competitor as a black belt, but for now, Louis needs to find a way to get her to steer her focus away from his and Harry’s not-so-great relationship. 

Louis gets so lost in his line of thinking, he doesn’t catch when Harry tells him to let go of his wrist.

“Louis, are you listening to me? I said you can let go now,” Harry tugs his arm away quickly, shaking his head. 

“Yeah,” Louis says. “Sorry.”

“You were practically holding my hand so long, she might think we’re dating now, instead.”

“Shut up,” Louis says, unable to get a full sense of Harry’s tone. 

“It’s true,” Harry says, then grabs Louis’ wrist and spins him towards his body, stopping their walking motion. “And just so you know…” he drawls. “I let you win to save face in front of your students. Don’t expect it to happen again,” he snarls just inches away from Louis’ face, and doesn’t give Louis a chance to respond before walking away. 

Louis allows him to get a few feet ahead, then follows right behind to be presented with his gold medal; a medal he believes was well-earned, no matter what Harry says. 

**

“Shut up, Louis!” Harry spits, stepping right into Louis’ space. 

“Or what?” Louis lifts his chin, not stepping away.

“You know how this ends,” Harry grits his teeth. “You know that you’re the one who ends up hurt.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Louis bites back sharply.

Harry lets out a maniacal laugh. “Okay, Louis, that’s it, just keep pretending,” he shakes his head, emphasising his point. “But you’ll never really be happy.”

“Harry…” Zayn warns from beside them. 

He’s been there the whole time, observing, waiting for the moment he needs to step in, always playing the role of the referee in the worst of their interactions.

“God,” Harry continues, looking up at the ceiling, then back down at Louis. The look in his eyes is something new that Louis can’t quite place. “Sometimes I wish I’d never met you.”

“Alright,” Zayn steps in, pushing them apart, turning immediately to Harry. “That’s too far.”

Harry steps back but keeps his eyes locked on Louis.

“Do you hear me, Harry?” Zayn yells. “I can’t defend you if you say shit like that.”

Louis just turns around and storms straight into James’ box office, not wanting either of them to follow.

Even after Harry and Zayn have left, Louis stays hidden away in the small space. He heats up his lunch in the microwave on the desk and sits in the office chair to eat. In anticipation of his afternoon classes, he logs onto the admin system to take a look at their attendance records and their promotion testing history. He needs to stay focused on what’s coming, but it doesn’t help that he can’t stop thinking about what Harry said. All he wants to do is recharge his energy in peace, and Harry can’t even give him that when he’s gone.

Louis closes the tablet and decides to go sit on the empty floor and stretch. He faces the mirror and eventually zones right out, staring at his empty reflection.

_Keep pretending, but you’ll never really be happy._

_What does that even mean?_

_I wish I’d never met you._

_The feeling is mutual._

Louis only snaps out of it when he sees one of the students coming inside. 

“Hello, Miss Riley!” He calls towards the entrance as he jumps to his feet. 

Riley bows and greets Louis politely as she slips off her shoes before scampering into the locker room. The rest of the students arrive shortly after, and Louis gets started right on time. 

The first two classes go by quickly. Louis focuses on sparring drills with the first group, then poomsae form with the beginners. It’s during the black belt preparation class he loses his focus enough to be called out. 

“Louis sir?” Henry says quietly. “Are you okay?”

“Hmm?” Louis answers, then realizes he’s completely zoned out again. “Yeah!” He tries to recover quickly, then commands them back to ready position. Truthfully, he doesn’t know how long they were standing there, just waiting for his command. As they turn back around to face the front, Louis can see the curiosity scribbled across their faces. 

Alex’s face lights up. “Did Harry sir do something?”

The question captures the attention of everyone else, and Louis can tell they’re all eagerly awaiting an answer.

“Alex,” he says sternly. “I’m happy that you write for the newsletter, but you can’t be occupied in my personal life, yes?”

“Yes, sir,” Alex looks down, seeming ashamed. 

“Alright,” Louis sighs. “Everyone take a water break. Alex?” He gestures for her to follow him into the box office. 

She follows, eyes still trained on the ground. 

“Hey,” Louis says once they’re inside. “Can we speak off record?”

Alex looks up, slightly confused, but nods regardless. 

“You’re right. I am distracted today because of something Harry sir said, and I shouldn’t have let it get in the way of your class. But,” he continues. “You do need to understand that there has to be a certain line drawn between us, right sweetheart?”

Alex nods. 

“Besides,” Louis pinches his eyebrows together. “Why are you so interested in Harry sir and I?”

“I don’t know,” Alex shrugs, eyes darting around once more. “I guess it’s just that…” 

“Just what?” Louis urges her to continue. 

“I have a rival, too.”

Louis has to contain a laugh. “A rival, huh?”

“Yeah. You know Ava? She’s in the other black belt prep class with James sir.”

“I do know her, yeah…” Louis nods along. 

“She’s always trying to one-up me. She always has to be better than me. So I guess that’s why I’m interested in your dynamic with Harry sir. I just want to know how to deal with it when we’re on the junior competition team together next year.”

“Well,” Louis says, now somewhat understanding where Alex is coming from. “It’s not easy, training with someone who is always competing against you. But you learn to deal with it,” Louis pauses.

_But you’ll never really be happy..._

“And you realize there are other things in the world that are more important than being better than that one specific person.”

“Like being better than everyone else?” 

Louis laughs now. “Sure.” 

“Okay, so what about you and Zayn?”

“Alex.”

“Got it.”

When Louis gets home later that night, he’s exhausted. Not so much physically as mentally. He jumps straight into the shower and stays there for far too long. As he’s getting dressed afterwards, he hears a text alert from his phone in the living room. He walks over and picks up his phone from the couch to see it’s from Harry. 

_I’m sorry for what I said earlier. Zayn was right, it was too far. If I could take it back, I would._

_7:47 pm_

Louis doesn’t believe it. As in, he genuinely doesn’t believe that Harry voluntarily typed this message with his own two hands. Maybe Zayn was upset enough that he took him hostage and forced him to send it. No matter how it went down, Louis is distrusting.

He answers anyway.

_It’s fine_

_7:51 pm_

He gets a response he wasn’t expecting. Not just the words, but the response in general, too.

_It’s really not. It wasn’t cool and I hope you can forgive me._

_7:51 pm_

Louis didn’t think he would ever hear, or read, those words from Harry.

_Harry, it’s forgotten. I appreciate the apology though. Thank you._

_7:52 pm_

Louis doesn’t know why he’s smiling when the next text rolls in.

_What’s forgotten? (You’re welcome.)_

_7:53 pm_

Louis tosses his phone aside and sits down on the couch, feeling much lighter than earlier. He really does forget about it, and doesn’t spend another minute thinking about what Harry said.

**

Louis picks up a delivery shift. He has nothing going on for the night, and he hasn’t worked one in just over a week, now. The extra cash would be nice. 

He does delivery after delivery, making conversation with everyone he delivers for. Louis loves visiting different restaurants and then meeting the people who order from them. Sometimes, he accepts a delivery from a restaurant he’s never heard of, and then he adds it to the list of places to try sometime. 

And that’s the case for his last order of the night. He signed up for a shift from five to nine, and it’s quarter to nine, now. By the time he gets this order out, he’ll be done. He plugs the address of the restaurant into his phone, which guides him to a small place he didn’t know existed. He stops the car, goes inside, opens his phone and adds it to the growing list in his notes. 

He tells the host what order number he’s come for, and he disappears to get it from the back. He comes back holding a large brown bag in his hands. 

“Thank you,” Louis smiles. “Have a good night.”

Louis heads back out and plugs in the address of the place he’s delivering to. Oddly enough, it’s in the apartment building adjacent to his own. Saves him a trip.

He pulls out of the small parking lot and gets back on the main road. He doesn’t need his phone anymore; he knows where he’s going. When he gets there, he carries the bag inside the front entrance and sends a text to the customer. 

_It’s your delivery driver. I’m in the entrance!_

_9:01 pm_

Louis gets one back immediately. 

_Cool, I’ll buzz you in! Room 305._

The door buzzes, and Louis pulls it open while it’s unlocked. He sees the door for the stairway and takes them up to the third floor. He knocks briefly on the door, then hears laughing from behind it. Within seconds, it’s swinging open.

“Nick?” 

_You’re fucking kidding me._

“Louis!”

Louis doesn’t know what to say, so he just hands over the brown bag. 

“Did you just say-”

Harry appears beside Nick.

“I guess you did.”

“Hey,” Louis says awkwardly. 

Before Harry can say anything else, Nick asks Louis if he wants to come in for dinner. 

“If you’re done working, or whatever. I didn’t even know you did deliveries?”

_Because Harry didn’t know._

“That’s okay,” Louis shakes his head. “Thank you, though. I don’t want to intrude.”

“Oh, come on,” Nick urges. “You guys can be civil.”

Louis’ eyes widen. He thinks it’s funny that Nick’s initial reasoning behind Louis declining is that he doesn’t like Harry, instead of the equally valid reason that he would rather not sit and be the third wheel between the two of them while they act disgusting.

“No, really,” Louis repeats. “I’m good. I appreciate the offer.”

Harry nods shortly, as if to thank him for not accepting. 

“Let me get my wallet, babe,” Harry says to Nick. 

“No,” Louis shakes his head again. “You guys enjoy.”

He turns to walk away, but Harry’s voice cuts him off and stops him.

“Louis,” he says seriously, making Louis turn around. “Just because we know you doesn’t mean you don’t get paid for the work you did, yeah?” 

Louis just nods, not willing to argue over something so mundane. 

Nick and Harry both disappear from the doorway, and only Harry returns a few moments later. 

“Here,” Harry extends his hand towards Louis, revealing a ten dollar bill. 

Louis just looks at it. Surely Harry knows that’s a lot to tip for a thirty dollar meal.

“Take it,” Harry instructs.

“Thanks,” Louis grabs it and slides it into his back pocket. 

“Thanks for not coming in,” Harry smirks. 

Neither of them dare to acknowledge anything from the day before. Like Louis said, it’s forgotten. Louis turns to leave, but Harry stops him once more.

“Why doesn’t anybody know you have this job?” 

“James knows,” Louis mutters. 

_And so does Zayn. But you don’t need to know that._

“But it’s just kind of embarrassing, I guess.”

Harry purses his lips and nods, neither approving nor disapproving Louis’ sentiment. 

“Okay,” is all he says.

“Okay,” Louis echoes. 

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

Harry closes the door slowly, and Louis waits for it to close all the way before turning to walk out. 

“Wait for me!” 

He hears Harry yelling from inside. There’s a slight pang in his heart at the realization that he’s going to go home now, to an empty apartment, with nobody waiting for him.

He ignores it. 

That’s one of the things he’s always said he loves about living alone. But seeing Harry with Nick almost makes Louis feel like maybe he’s going about it all wrong. 

Oddly enough, there _is_ someone waiting for him outside his apartment door when he gets home. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“Oh,” Zayn stands up from where he was sitting across the hall from Louis’ door. “Sorry, I didn’t know you weren’t home. Or what time you would be home. But Liam is working the late shift, and I didn’t want to sit around alone all night.” 

“Dinner?” Louis asks simply.

“Yeah,” Zayn smiles.

So Louis opens the door and allows Zayn to step inside. As he whips up a quick stir fry and Zayn chats to him from the couch in the living room, Louis thinks maybe his apartment isn’t ever so empty after all. 

**

“So, boys,” Niall says, once everyone stops laughing at the previous joke and the air has settled. “What are we doing this weekend?” 

_This is a thing now?_

“What do you mean?”

“Well, it’s halloween weekend, Louis! Come on, now.”

Everyone bursts into a chorus of “yeah” and “come on, Louis”, as if it were obvious. 

“Is anybody working?” Zayn asks, looking pointedly at Liam. 

“I think the other managers can handle it,” Liam smiles, as everyone else shakes their head.

“Perfect,” Niall cuts back in. “So what should we do?” 

“Pumpkins!” Harry yells, before covering his mouth quickly. 

Louis looks away quickly, wondering who it was that just acted shy like that, because surely, it wasn’t the Harry he knows. 

But Niall laughs along. “Sure, why don’t we carve pumpkins on Friday night?”

“And then for Halloween on Saturday, we should go to a haunted house,” Liam suggests.

“Alright, that’s the plan boys. Harry,” Niall gestures towards him. “You should invite Nick, too.”

_No he should not._

“Yeah,” Harry smiles. “I’ll let him know.” 

They spend the rest of the night relaxing in Zayn and Liam’s apartment, which has somehow become their hub. They’ve never all been to Louis’, or Harry and Niall’s, and definitely not Nick’s. But Louis quite likes Zayn and Liam’s; it feels cozy. But maybe that’s just the people. 

**

Friday night rolls around, along with a new development in their group dynamic; a group chat. Liam called it “the boys”, and that’s the name that’s stuck. So at six in the evening, when he gets a message from “the boys”, he can’t help but feel a warmth inside of him.

_We need to get pumpkins still_

_Liam_

_Thanks for the update, Li_

_Zayn_

Louis laughs, as he can only assume Zayn and Liam are currently sitting in the same room. 

_Why don’t you guys come over now and then we can all go together?_

_Liam_

_Sounds good_

_Louis_

_See you in a few_

_Harry_

Louis had already made arrangements to spend the night at Zayn and Liam’s, just in case they ended up drinking, which is a strong possibility. 

He checks his overnight bag to make sure he has everything he needs, then heads out the door for what he can only hope is going to be the start of a decent weekend. 

**

Being the first to arrive means Louis can put his bag down and sit for a few minutes.

“So,” he says, trying to be casual. “Any word about Nick joining us this weekend?”

Zayn looks over at Liam briefly, then back to Louis. It wasn’t fast enough for the glance between them to be lost on Louis. 

“Well,” Zayn says, acting like Louis didn’t notice. “He’s coming tonight for sure. But Harry didn’t actually say anything about tomorrow. So…”

“We don’t know,” Liam finishes for him. 

Louis just nods as Zayn looks down at his phone that buzzes on the island.

“Oh, they’re here!” 

Zayn buzzes them in, and a minute later, there’s a knock on the door. When Liam opens it, it’s only Harry and Niall standing on the other side. 

“Nick’s coming later,” Harry says, answering a question nobody asked out loud. 

“Alright, let’s go pick out some pumpkins.” 

**

They all pile into Zayn’s car, with Harry sitting between Louis and Liam in the backseat. Zayn drives a small car, so it’s a tight fit, but they’re determined to make it work. 

“Ugh,” Louis groans.

“Shut up,” Harry replies, continuing to adjust between them. 

Liam got in first, so he keeps his mouth shut, already having his seatbelt on. 

Harry and Louis are finally sitting still, not necessarily comfortably, but still. With their thighs pressed together, they both reach for their seatbelts, pulling them towards each other, where the two buckles are between them. They fumble aimlessly, and Louis feels his hand brush against Harry’s. He retracts quickly, almost hoping he doesn’t notice, but only a second later, Harry’s hand is brushing right back against his own. 

Their seatbelts click simultaneously, and they both pull their hands away as they lift their heads to look up at each other.

“You guys good back there?” Niall interrupts, turned around in his seat to look at them curiously. 

“Uh,” Louis turns away, stammering. “Yeah. We’re good to go, Zayn.”

Louis pretends not to see the look he’s getting through the rearview mirror from Zayn as he pulls out of the parking lot. 

**

“This one,” Niall slaps the roundest pumpkin he finds at the grocery store. 

Considering it’s the night before Halloween, they’re rummaging through scraps. Anything they find has been forgone by many other children and adults who got their shit together and bought their pumpkins ahead of time. 

Once they’ve all picked their underdog pumpkins, they start heading to the checkout. 

“Hey,” Liam stops them. “Why don’t we get some drinks and snacks, too? I don’t know what we have in our fridge and cupboards right now.”

So they all split up and pick up enough food and beverage to last them the weekend. As the cashier rings through their items, they all pull out their wallets to split the cost; fifteen dollars each is all it takes to cover everything. 

They throw everything in the trunk and pile back into the car. Harry and Louis have a much easier go at their seatbelts the second time around. And for that, Louis is thankful. 

**

“Niall, what the hell is that?” Louis points at his pumpkin, making everyone look and laugh along with him. 

“I don’t know,” Niall laughs. “It was a cat. But I think I screwed it up.”

“You think?” Harry laughs then, mouth open, head tilted back. 

Before Louis can look away, Harry pulls his phone out of his pocket. 

“Hey guys, Nick is here. Would you mind buzzing him in?”

Zayn nods and pulls out his phone, while Louis averts his gaze and sticks his hand in the chip bowl. He pulls out a handful and pops them into his mouth one at a time, focusing on the sound of his own crunching. Louis watches as Zayn gets up from where he’s sitting to open the door for Nick, who is standing outside, lifting his hand to knock just as it swings open. 

“Oh,” he says, surprised. “Good timing,” he smiles and walks in as Zayn steps aside to make room. “Hey, guys,” he walks right towards Harry. “Hey, babe,” he leans in from behind him and kisses him quickly on the check.

Louis wants to gag. He doesn’t, though.

“Wow, you’re all quite the artists,” he examines their pumpkins. “Well, Niall…” 

Everyone starts to laugh once more as Nick’s eyes fall on Niall’s pumpkin. 

They decide to have a competition with their designs. Liam takes photos on his phone and then uploads them all to the social media accounts associated with his bar, to set up an anonymous vote for the best one via the followers.

“Guys, it’s not even nine o’clock,” Liam says, sounding defeated. 

“So, we have time for some Halloween movies,” Nick suggests.

That’s how they end up littered across the living room; Harry and Nick sharing the single armchair, Zayn and Louis on the loveseat, and Liam and Niall stretched out on the floor. 

“Hey,” Zayn whispers as Liam and Niall scroll through the titles obliviously. “I’m a little suspicious about something.”

Louis’ mind flashes back to the car ride a few hours ago, and the look Zayn gave him through the mirror. 

“What is it?” He asks nervously. 

“Harry and Nick.”

_Oh._

“Why?” 

“I don’t know,” Zayn says slowly. “I haven’t figured it out, yet.” 

“Hey, Nick,” Niall pipes in, making Louis and Zayn look up. “Are you joining us tomorrow?”

Nick looks over at Harry, who looks like he wishes he weren’t sitting there right about now. 

“I don’t know,” Nick says with a bit of bite that is evidently not directed at Niall. “What are you guys doing tomorrow?”

Louis’ eyes widen, understanding why Harry looks so nervous.

“Ohmygod,” Zayn whispers beside him. “There it is.”

“Or at least part of it,” Louis answers in a hushed tone. 

“Harry,” Nick plasters a smile on his face. “Should we get some air before the movie?”

Harry doesn’t even say anything. He just stands up from the couch and follows Nick out to the balcony, sliding the glass door shut behind them. 

“Niall, what did you do?”

“I don’t know,” Niall answers, staring outside. “But how can we be certain Nick isn’t going to throw him over the edge right now?” 

“Niall!” They all yell, though part of Louis is slightly concerned.

How well do any of them really _know_ Nick? How well does Harry know Nick? Louis’ only met the guy a couple times now, and Harry’s only been dating him for a few weeks. 

“Why do you think Harry didn’t tell him?” Zayn asks, interrupting Louis’ thoughts, and clearly looking for opinions to confirm whatever it is he’s thinking.

“Genuinely no idea,” Liam says, looking truly bewildered.

“Yeah,” Louis says, looking outside, trying to get a read on anything that’s happening. It seems pretty clear that Nick isn’t happy, and Harry doesn’t seem happy, either. “Who knows.”

Before anyone can say anything else, they’re slipping quietly back inside, taking back their spot on the armchair. 

Nobody says anything. 

Niall hits play. 

**

Louis can barely pay attention to the screen. They chose horror, obviously, which is just the best excuse for Harry to play scared and cuddle up to Nick, in a glaring attempt at earning his forgiveness. If Louis can see right through his act, surely Nick should be able to, as well. 

But of course, Nick falls for it, eating it up completely. He holds Harry tight any time he jumps, and kisses the top of his head softly whenever he squeezes his eyes shut. Louis thinks it’s pathetic. 

“Stop staring,” Zayn leans over. “Seriously. You’re not subtle.”

Louis tears his eyes away and looks at Zayn. 

“Something about it…”

“I know,” Zayn cuts him off, both on the same page that something isn’t right, but they don’t know what it is. 

When Louis looks back over, Harry is already looking at him. Maybe he could sense that Louis was talking about them.

After the third movie, Harry yawns obnoxiously, drawing everyone’s attention.

“Come on, baby,” Nick pats his back. “Let’s get you home.”

Louis refrains from rolling his eyes. 

“I can take him,” Niall offers, sounding like he might still be slightly worried for Harry’s well-being. “We do live together, after all.”

Nick takes a long look at Harry, whose eyes are trained on the ground, then looks back at Niall and throws his arms in the air. “Sure, man,” he says finally. “Maybe I’ll see you guys tomorrow?” 

He walks over to the door and slips on his shoes. “At least, thanks for the invite.”

Everyone nods and says goodnight as Nick leaves. When the door closes behind him, it remains silent.

Niall sighs out loud. “Come on, H. Let’s get you home, for real.”

As they stand up, Louis turns to look at Zayn.

They didn’t have a single drink.

“Can I still spend the night?”

Zayn just throws his arm around Louis’ shoulder, and that’s enough of an answer for him. 

**

Louis wakes up next to Zayn the next morning and rolls over to find his best friend already awake. 

“Good morning,” Louis smiles.

“Good morning,” Zayn throws the blanket off.

“Hey,” Louis whines. 

“Come on,” Zayn laughs. “Let’s go get some training in before we go out tonight.” 

Zayn lends Louis his second pair of dobok pants, along with a t-shirt to train in. They exit Zayn’s bedroom to find Liam already eating breakfast on the couch. 

“Morning, lovers,” he greets without even looking at them. 

“Shut up,” Zayn throws his towel at Liam.

“Come on,” Liam laughs, snatching the towel mid-air. “He’s wearing your shirt!”

“And his pants, too,” Louis giggles, joining in on the joke.

“See?” Liam points at Louis.

“We’re going to the gym, you idiot,” Zayn grabs his towel back from Liam as he walks past the couch. 

“Mmhmm,” Liam raises his eyebrows, still not giving up.

“Whatever,” Zayn scoffs jokingly. “See you later.”

“See you guys,” Liam looks over the back of the couch, smiling at them.

Louis gives a small wave, and then they’re walking out. 

**

Zayn is holding the kicking targets, clapping them together loudly in an arrhythmic manner to work on Louis’ reaction time. Louis is blindfolded, and has to react to the sound quickly, finding Zayn and motioning a kick in the air before he can score on Louis. It’s one of Louis’ favourite drills. 

Louis is bouncing on the balls of his feet, anticipating the next target clap, but he hears Zayn’s voice, instead.

“Hey,” Zayn says. 

Louis stops moving and lifts one hand towards his face, peeling the blindfold off and turning to where Zayn’s facing.

“Hey,” Harry says, still standing in the front entrance. “Guess we all had the same idea.”

“Guess so,” Louis mutters under his breath, and Zayn hits him with the kicking target. 

“Yeah, so hurry up,” Zayn says to Harry. “It’s your turn.”

Harry gets changed quickly then joins them in the centre of the dojang. Zayn is still holding the kicking targets, and Louis, the blindfold. Louis walks up behind Harry and lifts his arms up and over his shoulders, careful not to touch him. He gently places the blindfold against Harry’s face and pulls it around to the back of his head, tying it carefully, so as not to tangle it in his hair.

When Louis drops his hands, Harry whips around, taking a step closer to Louis.

_Does he know how close he’s standing to me?_

Louis doesn’t move. 

“I’m not fragile, Louis.”

He steps away and sets himself up with his footwork, bouncing on the balls of his feet, ready to react. 

Louis looks over at Zayn, standing with his jaw slightly open.

“What just happened?” he mouths.

Louis just shrugs, and Zayn shakes his head, turning to start the drill with Harry.

They spend the morning focusing on reaction drills, switching it up and doing lots of variations through the couple of hours they spend there. 

“Alright, I’m done for the day,” Zayn announces. “You guys gonna shower?” 

“I’m gonna stretch first,” Louis says.

“Me, too,” Harry agrees, nodding along. 

Zayn squints at them before turning around to head to the locker room. “Don’t kill each other,” he yells, without turning back. 

Louis sits down and extends his legs, Harry following him shortly after. Neither of them say a word until Louis decides he’s done and stands up.

“Louis,” Harry grabs his wrist carefully. 

Louis looks down at Harry, and pulls his hand away gently. “Yes?”

“Why don’t you like Nick?”

“Why do you care what I think?”

“I don’t,” Harry purses his lips together. “I’m just wondering. I can see it in your eyes when you watch us. You don’t like him and I just don’t know why.” 

Louis starts to argue Harry’s first point, but Harry stops him.

“Don’t even try to pretend like I’m making it up. You watch us when you think I can’t see you, but I can. It’s why I’m such a good fighter, you know,” Harry smirks. “I see everything.”

“Well,” Louis says, deciding to ignore quite literally everything Harry just said. “I haven’t decided why I don’t like him yet.”

“Really?” Harry asks, standing up. “You haven’t decided?”

“Nope,” Louis answers, as they both start to walk towards the locker room. “And no, I won’t let you know when I do.”

Harry almost smiles.

“That’s what makes me such a good fighter, you know,” Louis pauses, letting Harry soak in the irony as they continue walking. “I know everything.”

Harry laughs then, and Louis thinks it might be the first time he’s caused such a genuine sound to come out of Harry’s mouth. 

**

“Alright, everyone ready?” Niall asks, turning around from the driver's seat. 

Niall offered to drive for the night, and also offered up his and Harry’s apartment as the place to crash if they end up staying out late. 

Louis clicks his seatbelt in the middle seat and looks up to tell Niall they’re ready, only to find Harry’s eyes on him from the passenger seat. 

“We’re ready,” Zayn says for him.

Harry turns around as Niall starts to drive, heading towards the highway to get to the house on the outskirts of the city.

Zayn pulls out his phone and starts typing on an empty notes page. Louis pulls out his phone so he can answer whatever it is Zayn says to him.

_Do u think nick is going to show up_

Louis types on his phone quickly.

_Probably…._

Zayn looks at him before typing again.

_I don’t._

Louis looks up at Zayn, meeting his eyes, then shrugs. 

It’s only brought up again when they’re in line outside.

“H, is Nick coming?” Niall asks. 

“No,” Harry answers quietly. “Not tonight.”

Louis notices Harry shivering in the cold.

“Aw, poor Harry,” he mocks him. “Nobody to hold you in the cold.”

“Shut up, Louis,” Harry spits back. 

“Yeah,” Niall says loudly, wrapping his arms around Harry. “I’ll hold you, Harry.”

Louis rolls his eyes when Harry shrugs one shoulder with a smirk. 

Zayn shoots Louis a look that screams ‘I told you so’. 

They stand outside for nearly an hour, huddling to stay warm. They decided to go later in the night, only arriving at a quarter past ten, fully aware it would be cold out. But they also knew that it would be dark, which Liam excitedly argued ‘adds to the experience’. And considering they spent an hour researching the best haunted houses around, they wanted the full experience. This particular one had the best reviews in terms of actual fear level. No minors are allowed, and apparently, the waiver they sign before going in gives the actors permission to touch them, and who knows what that could entail. After reading all of that, they paid online immediately. Now they’re here, and by the time they get to the front, it’s just after eleven pm, and they’re the last group in line. They all fill out the required waivers while the group ahead of them finishes up. 

As the previous group exits, the attendant guides them into the house, where they stop in the small front entranceway. They give their coats, phones, wallets and waivers to a man in a booth that appears to connect to another room on the other side, which can only be the exit. 

“Enjoy, guys,” he nods at them once they’ve all handed everything over. “Here are your flashlights,” he says, as he sets four down on the counter. 

One by one, they grab them, until Harry grabs the last one, and Louis realizes he doesn’t have one.

“Excuse me,” Louis says. “Do you have one more?”

“Sorry,” the man shakes his head. “The rest are charging.”

“Here,” Harry offers. “You can have mine.”

“Pft,” Louis sneers. “You’re not afraid of the dark, Harry?” 

Harry doesn’t say anything. 

“We can share,” Louis rolls his eyes. 

They all follow the attendant through a narrow hallway, moving away from the front entrance, Louis and Harry trailing the group. 

They come up to a room that has nothing but two doors. The attendant pushes a button to open them, revealing they’re actually elevators. He scurries Liam, Zayn and Niall into one, and Harry and Louis into the other. 

“Wait,” Louis says, concerned that they’re being separated, but the doors are already closing. 

“Great,” Harry says.

“It’s fine. It’s probably just a maximum capacity thing,” Louis thinks out loud. 

And then the elevator drops, fast. Not far, not long. Probably only a foot. But it’s enough to make Louis reach out for Harry’s arm, and enough for Harry not to rip his arm away immediately. Louis grips tighter as the lights go out, then relaxes and lets go when everything seems to be over.

“See?” Louis says, voice shaking slightly. “It’s probably just part of it,” he hopes that at least Harry will believe the words coming out of his mouth, because honestly, he’s not so sure. 

The elevator is still. And silent. 

“Harry?” 

Louis clicks on the flashlight to find Harry leaning against the wall, breathing hard and looking completely terrified. 

“Hey,” Louis says softly. “It’s alright,” he reaches out hesitantly. 

“Yeah,” Harry nods, grabbing Louis’ arm. “You’re probably right.”

Louis pulls away slowly, not wanting to startle Harry any more in the moment. Later, when they get out, he’ll make sure to have an extra laugh for the time spent in the elevator when he couldn’t, out of courtesy. Louis may love to make fun of Harry, but he has tact. 

“Hey!” Louis yells, as he starts banging on the elevator doors. “Hello!” He pounds his fist against the door.

“Louis?” Zayn says from the other side of the door, and Louis stops banging. “What’s going on?” 

“Did your elevator drop, too? Lights go out?” 

“No,” Zayn says after a pause. “It’s probably designed for just yours to do that.”

_I fucking hope so!_

Louis would rather not die in an elevator. Or with Harry. So definitely not in an elevator, with Harry.

“Maybe we’re supposed to figure out how to get them out?” Niall says.

“It’s not an escape room, Ni,” Liam says, sounding almost annoyed.

They continue to discuss, and Harry stays silent in his corner. 

“Harry,” Louis whispers, while the three outside continue to argue about what they should do.

Harry looks up at him, and with the flashlight shining at the ceiling between them, Louis can still see the panic clean cut across his face. 

“We’re on the same floor as the others, right? That is definitely a good sign. We’ll be out soon.”

As if the simple act of reassurance was all it took, the elevator dings and the doors slide apart. Harry stumbles out and falls unintentionally right into Zayn, who catches him, then helps him regain his footing immediately. Zayn takes his spot back in the front, and Niall and Liam follow, nobody daring to ask any questions about what just happened. What’s really happening, Louis thinks, is nobody wanting to address Harry in his current state of fear. 

Louis thinks it would be unfair to leave Harry alone at the back, so he places a gentle hand on his waist to nudge him ahead. Harry looks over his shoulder at Louis and gives him a small smile. Louis holds tight to their flashlight, not knowing when they’re going to need it next and follows closely, not even a full step behind Harry. 

“Oh my god,” Zayn says from the front as he enters a new room.

Everyone else follows him inside, to find a big space, filled with caskets on tables. They walk around slowly, and nobody mentions the fact that only one of them is open. Yet, they all wander towards it, forming a half-circle. Everybody can see the sign, but nobody wants to read it out loud.

_Here lies Harry Styles._

“How did they-” Harry’s voice shakes.

_Jesus, give the kid a break._

“We signed waivers, Harry,” Louis reassures him, since nobody else seems to be able to come up with an answer. 

An alarm starts blaring as a red light above them spins in circles, illuminating the room. All at once, the closed caskets swing open, hinges locking in place. People start clambering out of them, and the boys stand frozen for a moment, until Zayn ushers them towards the door, dragging Louis last, who never turned around from Harry’s casket. 

“Louis!” Zayn yells, pulling him along. 

Everyone gathers at the door while the literal walking dead is closing in on them. 

“Open it!” They all yell frantically, as Liam struggles with the puzzle that is the doorknob. 

“I’m trying!” He yells back, finally locking it into place and turning it.

They all shuffle through and Zayn closes the door behind them. Everyone takes a moment to breathe, before Louis turns around and opens the door again, going back into the very room they just escaped, and closing it behind him. He can hear them yelling after him, but he’s got his eyes on one thing only, and that’s the only casket that’s now closed. 

“Harry,” he whispers.

Louis runs over to the casket that quite literally has Harry’s name written on it, and swings the top open, to find Harry with his eyes squeezed shut. 

“Hey,” Louis says, and he can’t help brushing the hair out of his face. “I’ve got you.”

“You came back,” Harry sits up.

“Of course I did,” Louis laughs. “Wasn’t just gonna leave you here like oh no, I guess Harry’s just gone forever now. What a shame.”

Harry cracks a smile, and Louis helps him out of the casket and leads him to the door. 

“I’m impressed with how quickly they all cleared out of here,” Louis remarks, as he guides Harry out to meet the others. 

“There you are,” Niall says, rushing towards Harry and nearly taking him down with the sheer force of his arms wrapping around him. “We were all yelling at Louis for going back until we realized you weren’t here, either.” 

“Well, at least someone remembered, Ni,” Harry laughs, pushing Niall off of him.

“Let’s just…” Zayn trails off. “Keep moving.”

Everyone decides that’s a good idea, but as they look around, they realize there’s no other door besides the one they just came from. 

And then the walls start closing in. 

“Okay,” Liam says angrily. “It’s like they’re really out to kill us.”

“What do we do?” Zayn panics. 

Nobody seems sure of anything. And at this point, Louis is only half convinced the people operating the controls won’t actually just let these walls crush them. 

“Here,” Harry walks forward suddenly, then crouches down and pulls back the rug in the middle of the room, revealing a door. He pulls it open and looks down, then hops through it, waving everyone else over. 

Louis watches as everyone follows, and how Harry catches everyone as they land on the ground below. Louis goes last, just as the walls are really narrowing in, and he sits on the edge of the floor and pushes off, trusting Harry to catch him the same way he caught the others. Louis closes his eyes to brace for the impact, but feels Harry’s hands gripping his waist, allowing his feet to hit the ground gently. 

“Uh, thanks,” Louis stammers as Harry lets go quickly. 

“Whatever,” Harry answers nonchalantly, as if this entire experience hasn’t been wild so far. 

Once everyone is settled on the ground, the trap door swings shut, leaving them in complete darkness. Everyone pulls out their flashlight and clicks it on, revealing a maze of mirrors in front of them. 

“You’re kidding…” Zayn grumbles as he starts to move towards it. 

“Wait,” Louis stops him in his tracks. “What’s our strategy here?”

“I think it’s probably best if we stick together,” Harry says, still standing close beside him.

“Yeah,” Zayn nods. “Okay, yeah.”

Everyone gets behind Zayn and they enter slowly, keeping their flashlights on the see in the dark, the glare only making it more difficult. 

They don’t get far before they’re forced to separate. As Zayn moves forward, the mirror that had previously been on his left, swings behind him, cutting him off from the others. 

“Of course,” Zayn mutters, closing his eyes and tilting his head up. “The floor is weight sensored. Might as well separate, since the maze is going to shift, anyways.”

“Not if we don’t step on the sensors…” Liam says, looking at the floor behind him, eyes trailing along the path they already took. 

“Hmm?”

“Well, look at what Zayn’s standing on,” he points his flashlight down at Zayn’s feet. “It’s a sensor plate. If we can avoid them, the mirrors don’t move.”

They all know he’s right, and it’s just a matter of watching where they step.

“So Zayn, you keep moving on your own, I guess. And the four of us will go together and meet you at the end.”

Zayn nods and turns to continue through the maze.

“I’ll stay in front,” Liam offers. “Watch for the plates.”

They follow behind Liam silently, avoiding spots he tells them to avoid, and overall, doing a good job staying focused. 

Until the fog starts to rise.

“I can’t see the plates anymore.”

“What the fuck!” Louis screams into the air, hoping the operators can hear him.

“We’re going to get separated,” Liam states. “So just, keep your flashlights and find the exit.”

“But I don’t have one,” Harry panics.

Louis hesitates. “Here, take it.”

“No,” Harry shakes his head. “You’ve done enough for me already here,” he says softly. 

“Harry,” Louis grabs his hand and forces the flashlight into it. “Find your way out before the fog rises high enough that the flashlight is useless. I’ll see you out there, yeah?”

Harry nods, and Louis takes off, doing the best he can in the dark. He continues on, feeling like he’s making progress, though he can’t be sure. 

“Zayn!” He calls.

“Louis!”

“Are you out already?” 

“Yeah!” Zayn calls back.

“Does it sound like I’m close to you?”

Silence, then: “I think you need to keep moving to your left.”

Louis follows his advice and continues moving forward, but shifting to the left until he can eventually find the exit. By the time he gets there, Harry and Liam are standing with Zayn. 

“Niall!” Harry calls.

“Yeah!” His voice calls back from nearby.

“Oh, you’re almost here,” Harry replies. 

Niall appears then, just as the fog fills the maze completely. They all take a moment to admire it before turning around to continue on. 

The next doorway opens to reveal a set of spiral stairs. They all move towards it together, and Liam instructs them to hold onto the railing as they go up. And it’s a good thing he does, because Louis nearly topples backwards when a doll hanging from a rope plummets straight down the centre gap of the staircase. 

“Hold shit,” he breathes out, looking up towards where it came from. 

“Let’s just get up there,” Niall says from the back of the group. “Keep moving.”

And so they do. When they get to the top, they’re faced with three doors, each one labelled in fake blood. 

“It’s like the clown movie,” Harry states, maybe not even realizing he’s speaking out loud. 

“Right, which means we definitely shouldn’t go through the not-scary-at-all door,” Niall comments.

“Unless that’s what they want us to think,” Zayn says, eyeing the first door. “Maybe this is supposed to be reminiscent of that scene. So people will think it’s obviously a trap and they’re supposed to go through the very-scary door, but really it’s the not-scary-at-all that’s better.”

Louis isn’t sure he follows completely. But, he does have an idea.

“Okay, since we can’t know for sure, why don’t we compromise and go through the middle, scary door. We know it’ll be scarier than one of them, but less so than the other.”

Nobody says anything, but they look at each other and nod, piling behind Louis. 

“Alright,” he laughs. “Guess I’ll open the door.”

He puts one hand on the doorknob and moves back as far as he can, everyone crowded against him from behind. He twists and then throws the door open quickly. 

Darkness. 

“Well,” Zayn laughs. “Of course.”

Louis reaches behind him without looking, waiting for the flashlight from Harry. He feels it placed in his hand, and realizes it’s also Harry clenching the back of his shirt. Louis ignores it and clicks the flashlight on, along with the other three. They step inside slowly, shining their flashlights in opposite directions, to see what’s inside.

All of a sudden, there’s a lightning strike through the window followed by a loud clap of thunder that makes the whole room shake. 

“That’s not actually outside, right?” Niall asks. 

Zayn moves towards the window and looks out, then turns around, shaking his head. 

“It’s a boat.”

Lightning flashes again, and rain starts to pour outside the windows. The ground starts to shift, rocking like a boat crashing against the waves. 

“What do we do?” Louis yells over the noise.

“Just wait out the fake storm?” Liam suggests.

They let the floor rock them back and forth, as the rain pounds down, and the thunder rages on. They hear a loud crash, and realize it’s the sound of one of the windows flying open. 

“Let’s go,” Zayn says immediately, waving everyone towards the window next to him. He climbs out first, then helps everyone else through. They all get through and Zayn makes sure to double check that everyone is there. As they turn around, they hear another set of feet hitting the ground behind them.

Louis closes his eyes and turns around slowly, then opens them abruptly when he hears the sound of a chainsaw revving. 

“Run,” he says quietly, putting his arms behind him, pushing them all backwards. “Go!”

He takes one last look at the masked person holding the very realistic looking and sounding chainsaw in the air before turning around and following everyone, then stops when he realizes they’re not going anywhere.

Niall is frantically pushing the elevator button, waiting for the doors to open. They finally do, and they pile inside, Niall now pushing the button to close the doors. Once they do, they all let out a sigh of relief. 

“Where’s Harry?” Zayn says, looking at each of their faces. 

_You’ve got to be fucking kidding me._

The elevator dings.

“Wait, we didn’t move,” Liam states.

The doors open, revealing Harry being held by the man, who revs his chainsaw in the air again as Harry begs to be let go. There’s a metal chain link door blocking the way, not letting anybody through to get to Harry. They rattle against it, shaking it with their bare hands until they figure out which way it opens. As soon as it does, the man lets go of Harry and runs back towards the open window, jumping through and pulling it closed behind him.

Harry drops to his knees, looking traumatized. They all run over, and Zayn crouches in front of him. Louis watches on with a hand covering his mouth. 

“Felt like I was in that other scary movie,” Harry laughs, standing up and brushing himself off as if it was no big deal and he didn’t look ready to cry just seconds ago. “You know, the chainsaw one.”

They all laugh and get back into the elevator, which moves at a normal speed this time around. The doors open in a fully lit room, which they assume is the exit; the end of it. This of course, is their mistake. They let their guards down, walking over to the booth relaxedly, anticipating retrieving their things. But when they get close enough to see, it’s clear it’s actually an electric chamber, and hands start banging on the glass separating them from that room. 

They all jump back, startled by the hands, then realize there’s one more door just past the booth. Shuffling towards it, they all hurry out of what they hope is the last trick. 

This time, it really is the end. A second fully lit room, with the actual booth, where the actual attendant is sitting. 

“Did you guys have fun?” He asks smugly, reaching behind him for all their things. 

“Yeah,” Zayn chuckles. “That was pretty good.”

They trade their flashlights for their personal items, making sure they all have their phones and wallets, then start to head out the door. They’re all laughing as they walk across the room, and Liam opens the door to the outside casually. A ghost mannequin pops out from above the door, startling them all backwards.

“Sorry,” the operator says from behind them, taking his hands off the controls. “One last thing.” 

They all shake their heads and then leave for real, chattering excitedly to the car, recalling the whole experience as if one of them hadn’t been there to live it. They pile inside, cold from the chill of the midnight air, and Niall starts the car, getting back on the highway.

The overall emotional state in the car shifts. Nobody is really talking anymore. The drive is silent, and there’s no longer a feeling of necessity to talk about it all. Everyone is just staring out the window, except for Niall, who is driving, and Louis, who is in the middle seat. They both stare straight ahead, looking at different things. 

**

Louis is exhausted. Realistically, it’s not that late, but that haunted house took a lot out of him. So when they all get back to Niall and Harry’s, they decide to go to bed right away, all of them deciding to spend the night, because nobody wants to drive home. 

“I’ll take the couch,” Zayn says, as soon as they’re inside the apartment. 

Niall offers Liam the pullout attached to his bed. 

Louis is awake enough to do the math. “I’ll take the floor in your room,” he tells Harry, who just nods in response. 

Niall and Liam head straight into Niall’s room, seeing as he has a bathroom attached. Louis takes the hallway bathroom as Harry gets ready in his room. Meanwhile, Zayn is already nearly asleep on the couch. 

Louis washes his hands and his face, before drying off quickly and exiting quietly, trying to avoid disturbing Zayn on his way by. When he reaches Harry’s room, he pushes the door open and then closes it most of the way behind him again, leaving it the way it was when he got there. He squints in the darkness, and sees Harry already curled up in bed. He also notices Harry didn’t so much as toss him a pillow or any kind of blanket on the ground next to him. 

_It’s fine._

_The carpet is soft._

_Just so tired, it doesn’t even matter._

So Louis curls up on the ground, anyways. 

“Louis?” Harry rolls over, whispering over his shoulder.

“Yeah?” 

“Could you, um,” Harry pauses. “If you want,” he stops again. “Please,” his voice breaks.

Louis’ mind flashes back to Harry in the elevator, and Harry in the casket, and Harry helping him through the floor door, and Harry, scared of being left alone again in the mirror maze, and Harry, being held by the fake-murderous masked man. And in a second, Louis is crawling into Harry’s bed, pulling the covers up to his chin. 

_Is this why he didn’t put anything on the ground?_

“Thank you,” Harry whispers in the darkness, facing Louis, but laying as far away as possible. 

Louis wants to say something, anything. But both Harry and himself are asleep before he can. 


	3. november

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the season continues, and everyone gets ready for the annual holiday party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> glad you're still here !!!! :)

Louis wakes up in a bed he doesn’t recognize. Even worse, he realizes he’s not alone. He can feel legs tangled up in his and when he looks over, it all comes rushing back; Harry, being the main target of the haunted house, still scared enough when they got back to ask Louis to sleep in his bed next to him. And now, he’s still here in the morning, Harry sleeping soundly next to him, hair falling into his face so naturally. 

_He played you so hard!_

Louis yells at himself in his mind as he slowly pulls his legs away.

_Why are you being so careful???_

He slides out of bed and grabs his phone from where he left it on the ground the night before. He opens the door, just enough to slip out, then closes it back to its original position.

“Good morning,” the three others greet him from the kitchen, sipping hot beverages from their mugs. 

Louis clears his throat. “Good morning.”

“Sleep well?” Zayn asks smugly.

“Fine,” Louis shrugs, not playing into his insinuations. 

“Mmhmm,” Zayn nods, taking a sip of his coffee. 

“Would you all stop looking at me like that?”

“Like what?” Niall defends quickly. 

“I don’t know,” Louis shakes his head, then turns to look directly at Zayn. “It’s not like I’ve never shared a bed with you before.”

As soon as the words come out of Louis’ mouth, he regrets them. All he can do is squeeze his eyes shut and wait. 

“He let you sleep in his bed?” Niall laughs, putting it together. 

“He asked me to,” Louis grumbles. 

“Ooh,” Liam smiles. “The plot thickens.”

“What plot?” Louis throws his hands in the air. “There is no plot.”

They all laugh like it’s funny.

“Do you want some coffee, Louis?” Liam asks.

“No, thanks,” Louis is already backing away. “I just need to get out of here before he wakes up,” he slips his shoes on. “Thanks for a fun night, boys.”

“Louis,” Niall laughs. “If he asked you to sleep in his bed with him, you don’t need to avoid him. Besides, he’s the one who’s going to wake up alone, so really, who wins?”

_Still not me._

“You might be right,” Louis lies. “But I should go anyway. I’ll see you all later.”

And then he’s out the door and speed walking down the hallway. 

“Louis!” A voice bellows after him.

Louis freezes, and he knows it’s too late for him to pretend he didn’t hear and just keep moving. So he turns around slowly, already knowing who’s standing in the hallway.

Harry is standing there, in the same clothes he slept in, half-smile on his face. He takes another few steps forward, but doesn’t close the distance completely. 

“W-what?” Louis stutters, avoiding Harry’s eye. 

“Sorry,” Harry puts his hands up. “The boys said you just left. Figured I could still catch you.”

“Okay?”

“I just wanted to say thanks,” Harry looks down at his feet. “You didn’t have to be so nice last night. God knows I don’t deserve it,” he shifts his weight. “Not from you.”

“Oh,” Louis says simply, not knowing what to say. 

_Maybe “yeah, you’re right for once, you don’t deserve it”?_

“Okay.”

“Okay,” Harry repeats. 

Louis nods sharply, then turns around and walks away. 

**

“Hi there,” Louis is holding the phone to his ear as he opens his laptop. “My name is Louis Tomlinson, and my taekwondo company booked your venue for later this month.”

Louis logs on quickly and opens his file designed for banquet information.

“Yes, that’s correct,” Louis says. “I actually just have some details to confirm, if that’s alright with you?”

The woman on the other end agrees, allowing him to ask about all the logistics he’s supposed to figure out. 

“Okay,” Louis starts. “So you can seat ten tables, ten people each?”

She confirms. 

“Okay, that’s perfect,” Louis says, as he types on his document. “Would you be able to send me a floor plan, actually?” 

Louis provides her with his email address for the gym, and just moments later, he receives an email with the layout of the building. He looks at it as he asks his next question.

“So, I see the dance floor is at the front of the room, and there’s the projector up there, as well. What’s the space in the back?”

The woman talks him through the full layout; from the main entrance, to the coat check, to where the buffet will be set up, to the dance floor, to the tables, and then to the back, where there’s a fireplace and another smaller dance floor.

Louis makes note of the empty space. He has a few ideas that he might like to suggest to James.

“Perfect,” Louis says. “And then the buffet…”

She tells him there’s lots of variety in their food, and assures him there will be something for everybody. All Louis has to do is confirm the approximate number of attendees within three days. 

Louis takes note of that, too. 

After a few smaller details and trivial conversation, Louis hangs up the phone. 

The annual banquet is Louis’ favourite night of the year. Everybody gets dressed up, there’s awards, a good meal, and everybody stays out late. All in all, it’s a good time, designed for both the kids and the adults to have fun. They always book it in November, knowing it’s cheaper than trying to book in December, when everyone else is trying to have Christmas parties. Louis likes that, too, because then he has two months in a row with some sort of celebration. 

Louis opens another tab and starts researching, determined to bring his idea to James and make it happen. When he finally presents the idea a few days later, James is unconvinced.

“A photo booth, Louis?” 

“Yeah, I think it could be fun.” Louis answers excitedly. “And,” he adds. “It’s in the budget.” 

“Alright,” James shakes his head fondly. “It’s on you to get it all worked out.”

“Done,” Louis smiles. 

**

“Let’s go, now!” Louis yells emphatically as he claps, encouraging his students as they train. 

Their black belt test is only a month away, and Louis has confidence in all of them, but wants to keep pushing them hard. He doesn’t want them to slow down. The second they become overconfident is the second Louis knows he’s failed as a coach. So, right now, they’re putting in the work; they’re sweating, breathing hard, but still pushing to perform over and over again upon Louis’ request.

“Alright, alright,” Louis waves after they’re done. “Gather around.”

The look of relief on their faces is enough for Louis to know the last hour has been successful. 

“You guys are working so hard, and you should be proud of yourselves,” he pauses, looking around at all their content faces. “You’re all planning on testing next month, yeah?”

All of them nod, except for one. 

“Good stuff, kids. Head out, I’ll see you next time,” Louis dismisses them. “Alex?” 

Alex stays behind as everyone says goodbye and moves towards the locker rooms. Louis doesn’t know exactly what this pep talk is going to resemble, didn’t think it through much, really. But once everyone is cleared out, he figures he’s got to give it his best.

“Well,” he starts, hands resting casually on his hips, pushing down on his belt. “Why don’t you want to test next month?”

Alex sighs, looking down at the ground. 

“I don’t know,” she says in a rush. “I just don’t feel ready.”

“Look at me,” Louis says incredulously. “You’re more than ready,” he continues once she looks up at him.

“But how do you know?” She asks dramatically.

Louis realizes it then; he sees himself in her. He was that insecure student as a young teenager. James, always telling him he was good at what he did, but Louis, never fully believing it. It took Louis a while to learn that critique was not a bad thing, but rather, a full-hearted attempt at allowing him to grow and improve. 

“Well,” Louis smiles. “Part of it is instinct. I’ve been around here a long time, I’ve seen many tests and many students. And my instinct is telling me that you should be in the group of students at the next test.”

“And the other part?” 

“Your ability, Alex.” 

It pulls a smile out of her. 

“Listen to me,” Louis looks at her sincerely once more. “I see it in you, alright? You train so hard, and it shows. You think I don’t notice that you’re here early for every class, stretching on your own time, working on your vertical sidekick? Because I do,” he doesn’t give her a chance to answer. “But that doesn’t matter at all. What needs to matter is how you see yourself. You’re doing these things to improve yourself, not to look good in my eyes.”

“I guess so…”

“So,” Louis goes on. “You’re going to keep coming early, and you’re going to get that vertical sidekick you’ve been working so hard on. And do you know why?”

She shakes her head.

“Because there’s a part of you deep down that believes in you. Right now, it’s being covered up by the part of you screaming you’re not ready. And that’s your personal rescue mission to figure out.”

Alex doesn’t say anything. But she lunges forward and wraps her small arms around Louis’ waist, surprising him. He looks down at her and thinks maybe, just maybe, he did something good, here.

“Thank you, Louis sir,” she says.

When she steps back, Louis looks up, only then seeing Harry standing in the front entrance. Alex follows Louis’ eyeline, looks back at him quickly with a smile before running off to join her friends in the locker room. Louis, meanwhile, looks back at Harry and finds his eyes still on him. Harry gives him a small nod which Louis politely returns before turning and heading to the box office.

Harry follows him.

“What do you want?” Louis sighs as Harry puts his hands on the doorframe. 

“Nice to see you, too,” Harry snips sarcastically. 

Louis just looks at him expectantly. 

“That was some speech you gave your kid, there.”

“You heard all that?” 

Louis feels the heat rising to his cheeks, though he isn’t sure why. It worked, didn’t it? He did his job. 

“Yup,” Harry says, patting the doorframe and turning around. “Oh,” he says suddenly, turning back around again, waiting for Louis’ attention. “Are you sticking around to train with me, or what?”

Louis probably shouldn’t, but he drops his bag and stays.

Truthfully, seeing Harry again is strange. Louis hasn’t seen him since the first of the month, or, the night after the haunted house, or, the morning he woke up in bed with him. It feels like everything’s changed, yet everything’s still the same. 

It would be one thing if they were friends and Harry asked him to comfort him at night, but they _aren’t_. Louis doesn’t like Harry and Harry doesn’t like Louis. That’s how it was, and that’s how it is. 

“Hey!” Harry yells and claps the kicking targets together, startling him. “Are you here, or what?” 

Louis hadn’t realized he had zoned out. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Louis shakes his head. “Sorry.”

“What’s the matter, Louis?” Harry drawls. “Do you need someone to tell you that you’re good, too?”

“Would you be so kind?” Louis smiles fakely. 

“Hmm,” Harry squints, looking up as if he’s considering it. “No.”

They go on with the drill. And it’s weird but it’s normal. And because everything is normal, they end up fighting. Louis isn’t even sure how it starts, really. But is he ever? What he is conscious of, however, is the direction it goes; the sharp turn it takes. And of course, Louis knows it’s his fault; Harry’s face says it all after Louis yells something he probably shouldn’t have, making him acutely aware of exactly when the switch happens. 

“Oh,” Harry actually laughs. “So this is about you spending the night in my bed.”

“That’s not what this is about,” Louis denies, and would continue to deny relentlessly if given the opportunity. 

“Get over it, Louis,” Harry spits, not even so much as acknowledging that it was his idea. “It’s not that deep.” 

“Obviously not!” 

“What does that mean?” Harry takes a step closer.

_What does that mean???_

“Just that you were obviously using me to replace your boyfriend since he didn’t show up. You know,” Louis continues despite his mind begging him to stop. “Probably because he was so mad at you for not inviting him in the first place.”

Harry looks defeated. Louis got him. He isn’t sure how, but he knows he managed to turn it around.

“Why didn’t you invite him, Harry?” 

Harry looks up again; fire glowing in his eyes, anger evidently brewing in his heart. 

“You don’t understand,” he says through gritted teeth. 

“Enlighten me, then.”

“It’s none of your fucking business,” Harry raises his voice again, stepping even closer to Louis.

Louis takes a small step back, mirroring Harry’s movement. 

Louis knows Harry’s right. It _isn’t_ any of his business. But still, after all these years of pushing each other just a bit too far, Louis never learned when to quit. 

“But it is, Harry,” he says, as if it’s obvious. “Because if you had invited him, I wouldn’t have ended up in your bed.”

Harry laughs. “Is that really what you’re so upset about right now? I always say you need to grow up and right now is one of those times where I really see why. Get over it, Louis.”

Harry continues to step forward, but this time, Louis stays frozen in his spot. Before he knows it, Harry is right in his face, taking up way too much of his space for Louis’ liking. 

“Oh,” Harry whispers, in less of an angry tone. “Unless you can’t.”

_What does that mean?_

Louis doesn’t dare look up at Harry. He can feel Harry towering over him from up close, and that’s good enough.

“Um,” Louis clears his throat. “I’m leaving,” he forces himself to take a step back. “You can lock up.”

Harry watches after Louis as he walks away. “Yeah,” he says. “Good.”

Louis doesn’t bother getting changed. He simply snatches his bag up from the box office, grabs his water bottle from the ground on the outer edge of the gym and walks out the front entrance. He can’t help but sneak a look back inside, but he doesn’t see Harry.

Louis rolls his eyes, steps outside into the evening air and marches straight to his car. 

**

Louis drives straight to Zayn’s. He calls him on the way there to make sure it’s alright, and Zayn agrees without any questions asked. Louis is pretty sure Zayn can tell he’s annoyed, which means he can probably correctly assume why. 

And he is annoyed. The more he thinks about it, the more annoyed he becomes. He wishes Harry’s arrogance could be put in check. What gives him the audacity to talk to Louis like that? To get right up in his face and make such horrific insinuations?

Louis drives in silence, stewing in it. Before he realizes, he’s arrived at Zayn’s place. He texts him to let him know, and the front door buzzes open seconds later. Louis follows the steps he always takes, knowing them by heart, before ending up right outside Zayn’s door. As he reaches up to knock, it swings open. 

Zayn is standing there, waiting for him. 

“Why aren’t you changed?”

Louis looks down, having completely forgotten he didn’t change before making his exit. 

“Oh,” Louis holds up his bag. “Guess I’ll do it here.”

Zayn steps out of the way and lets Louis inside. 

“So,” Zayn says, as Louis strips down in the living room. “What happened with Harry?”

Louis turns to Zayn as he bunches up his dobok pants and training top, both in desperate need of a wash. 

“You wouldn’t believe,” he scoffs. “We were fighting about something, and then it turned into something else…” Louis trails off briefly, but Zayn waits for him to finish. “And then all of a sudden, he’s standing right in my face, accusing me of having liked sleeping in his bed.”

Louis gets a sudden chill down his spine just thinking about it. The nerve Harry has. 

“Oh my god,” Zayn can’t hold back a laugh. “You guys are ridiculous. You both need to get over it.”

“Tell him that,” Louis mutters.

Zayn waves his hands in front of him. “I’m not getting involved,” he laughs, still. “But,” he adds. “Let’s go get a drink.”

“It’s Wednesday.”

“Yeah,” Zayn nods. “And you look like you could use one drink. Let’s go.” 

So Louis agrees, and they end up sitting in a booth in Liam’s bar. Zayn orders a beer for himself and a cocktail for Louis, knowing him well enough to know that’s typically what he prefers. 

Louis talks incessantly about Harry, complaining about everything he can possibly think of. And Zayn lets him. He sips his beer and listens as Louis speaks extravagantly, only getting himself more and more worked up. When his pace finally slows, Louis excuses himself to the bathroom.

As he rounds the corner, a strong hand grabs his arm from behind. Louis turns around to see who’s touching him rather forcefully.

“Hi,” he says.

“Hi,” Louis says, shooting the cute stranger a smile, swallowing back his distaste for the somewhat aggressive approach. 

“I was watching you talk to your friend.” 

Louis hadn’t noticed. What he does notice, though, is light fingertips brushing his arm.

“Saw you getting all,” he pauses before leaning in closer. “Riled up.”

All of Louis’ energy being riled up over Harry is suddenly transferring to this moment, and then it’s his mouth on the nameless strangers’ and they’re making out in the bathroom of a bar Louis frequents too often for this to be happening. Louis is being pushed up against the wall and having his hair tousled and his neck attacked but he can’t say that he minds. 

Until he does.

The stranger drops to his knees on the tile, but before he can even get his hands on Louis, Louis is slipping out from between him and where he was pinned against the wall. The man seems confused, but Louis doesn’t owe him anything, including an explanation.

Truthfully, it’s been a while for Louis. And this isn’t what he wants. He isn’t actually sure what he wants, but he knows this doesn’t feel right. Generally, Louis wants to feel good again. But right now, he gets the impression he wouldn’t actually feel good if he lets this happen. So Louis ignores the man calling after him, begging to at least get his name, and he fixes himself up on his way back to where Zayn is sitting.

“Jesus, Lou,” Zayn laughs as he sits down. “Feel better?”

Louis continues to fix his hair as he thinks about Zayn’s question.

_No._

“Much,” he smiles.

**

They’re eating dinner in the living room, which is typical, because there isn’t enough room for the five of them in Zayn and Liam’s kitchen. 

“So, our banquet is coming up soon,” Zayn says casually between bites. “Did you guys want to come with us this year?”

Neither Niall nor Liam hesitate.

“Of course,” Niall answers for them. “Cheap drinks with the boys sounds like fun.”

“I agree,” Liam says. “You always talk about how fun it is,” he directs at Zayn. “I think we should get to see what it’s all about.”

“Don’t hype it up too much,” Harry laughs. “It’s not life-changing.”

“Yes, it is,” Louis retorts, just for the sake of arguing. 

“Okay,” Zayn says, before Harry can respond to Louis and the two of them manage to blow up the whole conversation. “So there’s ten seats at a table.”

“So…” Niall follows. “The five of us.”

“Plus the four girls on the comp team,” Zayn adds.

All eyes turn to Harry. He finally clues in.

“Oh,” he perks up. “Yeah, I’ll invite Nick.”

He seems to be looking right at Louis as he says that, as if he’s proving some kind of point. 

“Good, so it’s settled,” Louis says, staring right back at him.

“It is,” Zayn says, tone sharp and warning. 

Harry and Louis both go back to their food. They all eat their meals between laughs and arguments over what to watch on TV for the evening. Liam has the remote in one hand and his fork in the other, which ends in flinging peas across the room when Niall reaches to grab it, which only results in more laughter. 

“Alright,” Harry stands up at the end of the movie. “I’m gonna head out. We have early training tomorrow.”

“I forgot,” Zayn groans.

“Yeah,” Louis stands up. “I’m gonna go, too.”

Louis doesn’t miss the look that passes between Niall and Liam. 

“Have a good night, guys,” Louis continues on, adamantly ignoring it. 

He moves past Harry to beat him to the door. His lead doesn’t last long once he’s there, because Harry just slips his shoes on while Louis is tying his. They both reach for the doorknob to open the door and leave. Louis pulls his hand away as his fingertips brush Harry’s wrist accidentally. Harry doesn’t look up at him, but Louis is pretty sure he’s aware it happened. 

“Sorry,” Louis mumbles.

They say goodnight once more and then finally step out the door, walking down the hallway in silence. They don’t say anything to each other as they ride down in the elevator or as they walk out into the street. 

“See you tomorrow,” Harry finally speaks as they split directions towards their cars.

“Yeah,” Louis brings a hand up to wave quickly, before turning and walking to his car.

“Louis!” Harry calls, but Louis keeps walking. 

“Louis!” His voice is closer this time, right behind him.

Before Louis can even think about turning around, there’s a gentle hand on his arm, spinning him around. 

“You dropped this,” Harry lets go of Louis’ arm and extends the other, holding Louis’ phone.

“Oh,” Louis hadn’t realized Harry was watching him. 

_Why was he watching me?_

“Thanks.”

“Yeah.”

Harry turns around to head back in the direction of his car, and this time it’s Louis who can’t bring himself to tear his eyes away, watching Harry until he gets into his seat. When the headlights turn on, Louis turns around and keeps moving, not stopping until he’s inside his own car. 

**

“Boys, I know it’s early, but your bodies need to be ready for it! Move!”

Louis hates morning sessions. It’s the worst thing about competition season. No matter what James says, his body will never get used to it. But still, he kicks until he can taste his lungs. The problem is that they’ve only made their way up to one hundred and now they have to make it back down. In increments of twenty, they do alternating roundhouse kicks. Kick, shuffle, kick, shuffle. Twenty, forty, sixty, eighty, one hundred, eighty, sixty, forty, twenty. 

Louis makes it through pretty far. It’s at sixty on the way down when he bolts away from his standing bag. He barely makes it to the locker room. 

He hates morning sessions, but there’s nothing Louis hates more than throwing up. As he empties his stomach from last night’s dinner, his mind flashes back to every occasion any of them have ever thrown up. Zayn, after a match with an opponent with so much energy it shouldn’t be legal, and another time at training when James made them do sprints over and over as a punishment for poor performance at the previous competition. Harry, a few times at competitions due to nerves when he was younger, but since he got over it, it’s only ever been once at training, when they were learning how to receive strong kicks to the body, and Louis was feeling a little extra annoyed. And himself, once before this, when he didn’t train hard enough in the off season, meaning his body wasn’t ready for such intensity, and again now. 

The locker room door swings open.

“Louis? You alright?” Zayn asks, standing just inside.

“Yeah, thanks.” 

Louis stands up, flushes the toilet, and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He opens the stall door and walks out to the sink, throwing a half smile at Zayn, still in the doorway.

“Alright, well James dismissed us. We’re done for the day.”

Louis just nods, looking at himself in the mirror as he scrubs his hands. 

“I’m starting over.”

“Louis…”

Louis knows Zayn hates it when he gets like this. Sure, he may be a little stubborn, and maybe even a little prideful, but Louis has never lacked determination. He splashes water on his face, then tilts his head down towards the tap to rinse his mouth. 

“You don’t have to. James isn’t mad.”

“I know,” Louis turns the water off. “But I want to. I’ll see you later?” 

Zayn gives him a look that screams _you’re a fool_ , but goes to get dressed anyways. Louis exits the locker room and heads back towards the front, dragging his bag back into the middle of the gym. 

“You gonna finish your drill, then?” Harry asks from where he’s stretching nearby. 

Louis looks over and has to fight the urge to just kick the smug look off his face, instead.

“Starting again, actually,” he tilts his head with a fake smile. 

“Wow,” Harry feigns amusement. “What a fighter.”

Harry turns away from where he was facing the mirror, and extends his legs out in front of him in the direction of Louis’ bag. He leans back on his hands, seeming to be making himself comfortable. 

“So what?” Louis shakes his head. “You’re just gonna sit there and watch?”

“Yeah, actually.”

Louis rolls his eyes and turns to start. He keeps it light for the first twenty, takes his fifteen second break, then gets going on forty. Harry just watches in silence as Louis works his way all the way back up the numbers.

“Come on, now. You’re more than halfway there.”

Louis doesn’t register that it’s Harry encouraging him as he works on his hundred kicks. Once he’s done these, he knows he only has two hundred left. In the grand scheme of the drill, it’s not a lot. He knows he can do it. It was never a question, really, but with Harry watching, Louis has the sudden growing need to finish well. He finishes one hundred and takes his break, catching his breath, controlling it back to normal. As soon as he’s got it, he starts his eighty. 

Harry just keeps watching. Louis doesn’t know why he’s bothered to stay; Zayn left while Louis was doing his kicks. As he works on sixty, which is the point he made it to last time, Harry speaks up again. 

“You’re killing it, Louis.”

“Less than a hundred left.”

“Don’t stop now.”

Louis only pushes harder at the sound of his voice. He takes his break, does forty. He takes his last break, does twenty. He collapses. His knees hit the ground, then he lays down, staring straight up at the ceiling, focusing on the air he inhales and exhales. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Harry standing up. 

“Took you long enough,” he looks down at Louis. “Push harder.”

“Fuck you,” Louis says, but it comes out in a whisper as he continues to breathe. 

And Harry is already walking away anyways. 

As soon as Louis finally sits up, he hears a knock on the box office window. He hadn’t even realized James was in there. He gets himself to his feet and moves slowly towards the door. 

“Louis,” James says once he’s standing just outside the door. “Why did you do the full five hundred over again?” 

_To shove it in Harry’s face._

_To show you I’m not weak._

_To prove to myself I could._

“I don’t know.” 

James just nods, followed by a shrug. 

“Well, good work.”

“Thank you.” 

Louis hears a sound echoing through the dojang. He steps back and sees Harry, kicking the same bag Louis had been kicking just moments ago. Louis gets a rush of anger as he storms over towards the bag.

When Harry pauses to take a break, Louis demands:

“What are you doing?” 

Harry looks over, pretending as though he didn’t know Louis had walked over.

“Showing you how it’s done,” he smirks, before turning to the bag and kicking again.

“You’re fucking ridiculous.”

“No,” Harry yells over the sound of his own feet hitting the bag as Louis walks away. “You’re fucking ridiculous.” 

Louis walks into the locker room, shaking his head the whole way. He gets changed and leaves as Harry is still kicking, though Louis has no idea what number he’s working towards. 

_Maybe he is doing it faster…_

Louis shakes the thought away, wishing it didn’t matter, but knowing deep down, it matters to him. 

**

After showering and taking a nap, Louis calls Zayn. 

“Hey, Louis.”

“Hey, what are you doing?”

“Nothing really.”

“Wanna get lunch?”

“Sure.”

Louis hangs up and drives over to get Zayn. They go to their favourite sandwich place, order their food and sit down. Louis had held it in on the phone, on the drive, and up until this point. But finally:

“You’ll never guess what Harry did today after you left.”

Louis pretends not to see the look of slight indignation flash across Zayn’s face.

“What did he do?”

“He sat there, the whole time I did the drill.”

“And? That actually sounds kind of nice, doesn’t it?”

Louis laughs.

“Funny you should say that, I thought so too, at first.”

“Wait, really?” Zayn sounds genuinely surprised. “The fact that that even crossed your mind is impressive to me.”

“Yeah, well,” Louis doesn’t think too hard about what Zayn said, though he knows he’s right. “He only did it to show me up, after.”

Zayn takes another bite of his sandwich, forcing a pause in the conversation.

“How? What makes you so sure that he wasn’t actually being nice?”

Louis’ mind flashes back to Harry’s encouraging words. He knows they were fake; meant to make Louis believe he was being nice before showing off. There’s always a catch with Harry.

“Because he did the drill again right after me! Waited until I was done, then told me I was too slow. Then he started kicking again!”

Louis speaks with a hint of exasperation, wishing Zayn would believe him and just take his side for once. 

“Damn,” Zayn chuckles. “That is a dick move.”

Tilting his head away, Louis laughs along with Zayn, pleased that he agrees. Louis continues to rant, in a slightly lighter manner now, until they finish their sandwiches and decide to head out. 

**

“Alright,” James gathers the whole team around. “Good work today. Rest up tonight so you’re ready for tomorrow. The season is moving fast. Keep winning, provincials are coming.”

They all nod along, and Louis has a floating feeling in his stomach at the mention of provincials. He has a good feeling about this year. It’s a feeling he can’t explain, but it’s usually correct. _Instinct,_ he remembers telling Alex. And maybe that’s exactly what it is. In previous years, Louis would just seem to know how far he was going to make it in the season. This year, the feeling is a good one.

James puts his hand in the middle, snapping Louis out of it. One by one, they follow, and Louis glances down as the hands begin to stack. His eyes turn to his left when he sees the hand on top of his. Harry is avoiding his eye, but Louis watches him as they push their hands down twice, and continues to watch him as they throw them upwards sharply. 

“Sipjin!”

Everyone scatters. Two of the girls walk to the water bottles, while the other two go pack up their equipment. Louis and Zayn head straight towards the locker room and Harry stays back, talking to James. 

“Are we driving Harry tomorrow?” Louis asks casually as he opens his locker.

“No,” Zayn closes his own. “I asked already. Niall’s coming, so he’s going with him.”

Louis nods.

“Liam wants to come, too. So he’s going to drive us.”

“Cool,” Louis closes his locker. “That’s exciting.”

They both take a quick shower and get changed. Harry walks in, then holds the door open for them to leave. His eyes lock with Louis’ before dropping them to the floor, seemingly embarrassed, and Louis has no idea what his problem is now. 

“What’s with him?” Zayn asks as the door swings shut beside them.

“Who knows,” Louis exhales.

“Louis?” James calls. 

Louis looks over, then turns to Zayn, who tells him he’ll wait in the car. Louis jogs over towards where James is standing in the gym.

“So,” James says, resting his hands on his hips. “A couple of things.”

His mind flies into a panic. He’s almost twenty-four years old, but still absolutely terrified of being in trouble with his coach. 

“First, I wanted to ask you about the banquet.”

Louis’ body relaxes. 

“I already got the entire black belt prep class to buy tickets,” Louis spits out. “I’m still working on the other classes.”

“That’s not it,” James laughs. “I just noticed you hadn’t assigned yourself a table yet, so I wanted to invite you to our coaches and alumni table.”

Louis doesn’t know what to say. It would be an honour, really. But he thinks back to Niall and Liam’s excitement at the prospect of attending, and he thinks about Zayn, who is quite literally his best friend. Then there’s Harry, who he would actually love to sit away from, but Louis knows he’s part of a team. And the team sits together. 

“I really appreciate the offer,” Louis smiles genuinely. “But I’m going to decline.”

James looks at him curiously as a small smile forms on his face. “Of course,” he nods, as if he had been expecting Louis to turn him down all along. “Now, the other thing…” 

Louis has a feeling the second thing has to do with Harry. Instinct, really. His suspicions are only confirmed when James looks over as Harry walks out of the locker room, then looks back to Louis.

“What is it?” 

“I already talked to Harry about this,” James nods in Harry’s direction, as he continues to shuffle out the front entrance, clearly not wanting to be here while James talks to Louis about whatever it is. “But this weekend, if it happens to be, or when it is the two of you fighting for gold, you need to let Harry win.”

Louis’ head snaps towards where Harry is still standing at the entrance, not having successfully slipped out quickly enough. He turns abruptly back to James. 

“Excuse me?” 

He can’t find any other words. 

“Why?”

It’s the only other one he can think of. 

“Because, Louis,” James gives him a look. “Your point score this season is exceptional, but if we want to make sure Harry secures a spot at provincials, he needs to win,” he pauses and studies Louis’ face. “It’s that simple.”

Louis knows Harry is gone now.

“Alright,” he mumbles. 

As much as Louis hates Harry, he deserves a spot at provincials. Louis doesn’t think he’s never made it, actually. Since Harry got to their studio, he’s been at provincials every year alongside Louis. 

_So why is James so concerned he won’t make it this year?_

“I knew I could count on you,” James slaps a hand down on Louis’ shoulder and squeezes quickly before walking away. 

Louis sighs out loud before walking to the entrance at putting his shoes on. When he walks out the sliding glass door and turns the corner, Harry is standing in the hallway with his head down. Louis wants nothing more than to blow right past him and pretend he isn’t even there, but he knows Harry’s waiting for him. 

“Hey,” Harry says, looking up as Louis approaches. “So…”

“So.”

“You’re going to let me win, right?” Harry asks softly, clearly wishing he didn’t have to ask such a question. 

Louis steps forward to get up close. Harry moves back, inhaling sharply before holding his breath as Louis crowds into his space. Inches away from his face, Louis thinks Harry is finally intimidated. He knows the power is in Louis’ hands.

“You want to win?” Louis asks.

“Uh,” Harry avoids his eye. “I mean, yeah.”

Louis leans in just a little bit closer, putting his mouth right next to Harry’s ear. 

“Then you better fight hard.”

“Uh,” a voice startles Louis from beside them. “What the hell?”

Louis snaps his head to see Zayn standing at the top of the stairs. 

“I’ll just,” he stammers. “Go back to the car and wait.”

“No,” Louis practically jumps away from Harry, heart racing at the idea of what Zayn must be thinking. “I’m coming now.”

“Yeah, he probably thinks you are,” Harry says quietly, so only Louis can hear. “Have fun explaining that one.”

Louis squeezes his fist tight and punches Harry hard in the bicep before running after Zayn. 

As soon as Louis gets into the car, he opens his mouth and doesn’t close it again until they get to his apartment, explaining to Zayn the whole way there. He doesn’t even want to give Zayn a moment to say anything; no assumptions, no observations, nothing. 

**

Louis wakes up early and goes through his usual routine before Zayn arrives. To help wake up even more, he goes and stands outside to wait as soon as Zayn texts him to let Louis know he’s leaving. 

“Good morning,” Zayn greets him as he slips into the backseat next to him, only shivering a little bit. 

“Good morning,” Liam echoes from the driver seat. 

“Good morning,” Louis answers them both, rubbing his hands together for warmth.

“Feeling ready?” 

“As ready as I’ll be.” 

The drive is short but the company is good. They make it to the rec centre with plenty of time to spare and go inside to warm up while they wait for everyone else to arrive. There’s something about an empty gym early in the morning that makes Louis feel ready for the day. Before he knows it, the forms competition is starting and he and Zayn are forced to split up. 

It suddenly dawns on Louis that he hasn’t seen Harry yet this morning. He scans the room, looking at each ring and at the bustle of people on the outer edges of the gym. Still nothing. After glancing around his own ring, making sure he has time, he jogs away towards his duffle bag. 

_Are you here??_

_8:03 am_

Louis taps his foot impatiently. Harry is supposed to win today. 

Realizing he doesn’t have time to stand around and wait, Louis tucks his phone back into his bag and runs back to his ring, receiving strange looks from his competitors, though none of them say anything. 

When it’s his turn, he focuses on the task at hand. He focuses hard enough to earn himself a bronze medal.

“Zayn!” Louis calls as Zayn comes towards their bags.

“Yeah!” Zayn picks up his pace, gold medal swinging back and forth around his neck.

“Have you seen Harry yet?” 

“No,” Zayn narrows his eyes. “Is he not here?”

“I don’t know,” Louis shakes his head.

“And isn’t he supposed to-”

“Yeah.”

A silence passes between them, but Louis shakes it away and starts to put his gear on. Whether or not Harry shows up to fight is none of his concern. Louis needs to make provincials; he doesn’t care if Harry is there with him. In fact, he’d be better off without. One less potential loss, really. 

When it’s their division’s turn to use the warm up room, Harry is still noticeably absent. Louis focuses on loosening his limbs and stretching his muscles. It works well until the door slams open and all eyes land on the abruptly uncooperative legs stumbling into the room.

Harry looks around, suddenly shy at all the attention, then starts to move straight towards Louis. 

“Where-”

“My car wouldn’t start,” Harry cuts him off. “Just help me warm up, please?” 

Louis’ face contorts.

“I can’t beat you in the finals if I lose my first match,” Harry says through gritted teeth.

“You can’t beat me at all,” Louis answers slyly. “But come on.”

Louis puts his hands under his chest gear, allowing Harry to kick lightly, alternating with jogging on the spot and high knees. The time runs down, and the two simply nod at each other in acknowledgement. It’s a promise Louis isn’t sure he actually made, but will most likely commit to nonetheless. 

In a bracket of eight, all it takes is two wins for each of them to face off in the finals. So it isn’t long before they’re sitting across from each other in the competitor chairs. 

“You’re gonna let him win, right?” Zayn whispers next to Louis, acutely aware of the way Louis is eyeing Harry across the ring. 

“Haven’t decided yet.”

“Louis…”

“He can earn it if he wants it. Besides, he kicked ass today. His point difference has gone up already.”

Zayn sighs. 

“What?” Louis turns his head to face him.

“Nothing,” Zayn exhales. “I just think he would do it for you if the roles were reversed.” 

The referee calls them into the ring, and Zayn’s words echo in Louis’ head. Not because Louis thinks he’s right, but the opposite. There isn’t a chance Harry would ever let Louis win just because he hasn’t been performing well enough. Louis thinks about that as he lands the first blow to Harry’s gear, throwing his hand up to claim the point. 

Harry shakes his head, seeming to refocus, and fights back hard. Between rounds, James talks to each of them. After the second round, Louis is leading by one, and James’ talking turns into lecturing. 

“Don’t worry,” Louis reassures him. “It’ll be fine.”

_It should be realistic, at least._

In the third round, Harry’s eyes are hungry and desperate for the points he needs to take the lead and win the gold. Louis gives into it, because of course he does. The final score is eleven to eight, Harry picking up another plus three in his overall point total. Louis will take his own minus three and throw it away along with a little piece of his dignity. 

“Hey, Zayn, I haven’t seen you yet to ask but I was wondering if you would mind giving me and Ni a ride home? We had to take a cab here,” Harry asks as they wait for Zayn’s final match to start. 

“Of course,” Zayn doesn’t even hesitate. “Liam won’t mind. And since that means it'll be the five of us, we should go out somewhere or something, too.”

_Why?_

Louis remains silent.

“Yeah,” Harry smiles. “That would be cool.”

Zayn loses his final match. But for someone who’s previously mostly focused on forms, his sparring stats for the season are impressive. It’s probable he’ll still make provincials. 

They end up squeezing into a booth at Liam’s bar. Realistically, as predictable as it’s become, Louis can’t complain when he gets free food every time he’s there. Paying for drinks is a small price in comparison. 

They sip on their drinks and snack on their food and somewhere along the lines as Harry is talking, Louis realizes he hasn’t seen Nick at all this month. Which is fine by Louis. 

“Hey,” Louis can’t help being curious. “Did you end up asking Nick if he wants to come to the banquet?”

Harry smirks. “Why? Do you want a plus one instead?”

“Just wondering.”

Harry almost laughs. “Well, yeah, I did. He’ll be there.”

Louis feels disappointment he can’t explain course through his veins, and tries to drown it out with alcohol as he finishes his drink. 

Zayn doesn’t drink at all, offering to drive everyone home. It turns out that means he’ll drop Harry and Niall off at their apartment, while Louis will go home with him and Liam to crash at their place. Sometimes, Louis doesn’t want to be alone. And Zayn lets him get away with it. 

At their apartment, the three of them sit on the couch. Louis’ mind is running and he can’t quite catch up to it, which is a feeling he always hates, because he can never control his mouth. 

“I just hate him,” he says with no context.

“Harry?” Liam confirms. 

“Yeah!” Louis throws his hands up. “I can’t believe I let him win today.”

“I can,” Zayn tries to settle Louis. “Because you’re a good person and you knew it was the right thing to do.” 

Louis mimics Zayn briefly, sending Liam into a fit of laughter.

“Remember the time he called me, pretending to be a coach from another studio trying to lure me off the team?”

Zayn nods along as Louis flies to his feet. 

“And then there was the time he left me stranded in the parking lot in the middle of winter.”

“You’ve left him stranded before,” Zayn counters while Liam continues to laugh, leaning back on the couch. 

“And what about the time-”

“Louis!” 

Zayn’s raised voice catches Louis’ attention and even makes Liam stop laughing. Louis looks at Zayn inquisitively.

“Are you ever going to stop talking about him?”

Louis opens his mouth to defend himself, but Zayn isn’t done. 

“Seriously, it’s like he’s all you talk about lately.”

“I didn’t,” Louis starts, but doesn’t know where the sentence is going. “I didn’t realize.”

Zayn nods emphatically, as if that proves his entire point. 

“And you know, the other day, you explained what I saw in the hallway. I believed you, really, but all I could think of was the day we went to the bar just the two of us and you ended up making out with that random guy.”

Louis can’t make the connection Zayn is trying to draw out for him.

“Because it happened right after you were talking about Harry.”

That’s the line and Zayn has crossed it. 

“Okay, so what are you implying?” 

Louis knows what Zayn is implying. But he only wants to believe it if he’ll say it out loud. 

He doesn’t say it. 

Zayn stays silent for a beat too long, giving Louis just long enough to turn and head straight for the door.

“Louis!” 

Zayn and Liam both call after him, but Louis is already flying down the stairs, sobering up immediately as he attempts to process what just happened. 

He stops himself before stepping outside, cursing the bitter cold of the mid November night. Sighing, he pulls his phone out, fingers moving against his own accord. 

_Can you drive?_

_11:53 pm_

_Yes_

_11:53 pm_

_I need a ride. At Zayn’s._

_11:54 pm._

As an afterthought, he sends a follow-up.

_Please._

_11:54 pm._

Neither of them says a word as Louis slips into Harry’s passenger seat. In fact, Louis doesn’t even give him so much as a glance in his direction. Harry eventually realizes that this is simply how it’s going to be, and he turns his head away, slowly weaning on the gas to leave the quiet parking lot. 

“Thanks,” Louis finally says, hand already on the door as Harry pulls into the parking lot of his own building.

“I would say anytime,” Harry puts his car in park. “But that’s not true.”

Louis turns back around from where he was ready to step out of the car.

“You let me win today,” Harry shrugs. “I owed you one, and one only.” 

Louis rolls his eyes and gets out of the car.

“See you,” he closes the door behind him, and Harry doesn’t leave until Louis has stepped inside his building. 

All the way to his door, Louis thinks about how he ended up alone tonight, after all. 

**

Louis finishes his classes for the day, feeling good overall about how his students are progressing. His beginners will all be advancing a level by the end of the month, and his more advanced students will be testing next month, just before his black belt prep class students test for their black belts. 

As the last class is dismissed and moves towards the locker room, Harry walks in, as has become routine. On days when Louis is teaching, Harry shows up to train afterwards, whether it’s for scheduled group training or just the two of them on their own time. Louis nods in his direction, then goes into the box office to make some quick phone calls. 

He starts by calling Julie, the banquet location’s owner, to confirm the number of attendees as she requested, given the event is only a few days away. She thanks him for getting in contact, and then he goes on to call Jeremy, the photo booth owner, to make sure everything is still in place to set it up the day of. As Louis hangs up, there’s a knock on the already opened box office door. He looks up, expecting Harry, but he finds Zayn, instead.

“Hey,” Zayn half-smiles. “Mind if I join you guys today?”

“I don’t know,” Louis shrugs. “Don’t want you to feel like you’re interrupting something,” he says sarcastically, only feeling a little bit bad after the words come out of his mouth. 

“Louis,” Zayn closes the door behind him just as Harry walks out of the locker room. “I’m sorry I upset you. I should have dropped it.” 

Louis closes his eyes, hating that Zayn is apologizing for nothing, really.

“No, Z. It’s on me. I overreacted when you were just trying to make a point.” 

Zayn nods ever so slightly. 

“So…” he trails off. “You’re not mad, and we can go out there and train with him together?” 

“Only if you promise to stop talking about him,” Louis rolls his eyes jokingly. 

Zayn laughs out loud, covering his mouth quickly. Louis stands up from his chair and slings an arm around him, walking out of the small space together to get some training in with Harry.

**

The night before the banquet, Louis picks up a driving shift. Truthfully, he only ever drives now when he needs a little bit of extra cash. James’ job has been extremely helpful, paying Louis well enough that he doesn’t need any other job. But Louis wants some cash for the bar tomorrow night, so he takes on a Friday night dinner shift and hopes people are feeling generous. 

In the middle of his rush, Louis goes to plug in an address to his phone, only to see it’s already been entered before, stored in his phone’s memory. 

_That’s weird._

He usually deletes them as soon as he’s done with them, not wanting a collection of strangers living in his search history. 

And then he remembers.

He explicitly chose not to delete Nick’s. 

Louis tilts his head back, wondering why the universe must be so cruel. The hostess hands him the bag of food and Louis thanks her, silently wishing she would just take it back.

But he’s stuck with it now, so he walks out the door and puts the bag on the passenger seat as he gets into the car. He makes the drive to Nick’s apartment, hoping the whole way there that Harry isn’t inside. 

He texts Nick when he’s outside so he can be buzzed in, then takes the stairs up to the third floor where Nick is waiting for him in the hallway outside his apartment. 

Louis only finds it a little bit weird. He puts on a cheerful act. 

“Hey, Nick!” 

Nick brings a finger to his mouth, shushing Louis.

“Sorry, Harry’s sleeping,” he explains. 

There’s a loud crash from inside that says otherwise. Before Nick can grab the food and go look inside, the door swings open and Harry is standing there, looking just as confused as Louis feels.

Harry looks right at Louis, then glances over at Nick slowly.

“Food’s here,” Nick grumbles, snatching the bag and shoving his way past Harry.

Louis waits until he hears a door close from inside the apartment.

“Is everything okay?” 

“Fine,” Harry says sharply before shaking his head and reaching into his pocket. “Did he pay you?” 

“No, but it’s fine,” Louis answers quickly, but Harry continues to open his wallet. “Harry, seriously. I’m just making some cash for drinks tomorrow. So keep your money and buy me a drink, yeah?” Louis finds himself actually smiling at Harry, and it only hurts a little bit when it isn’t returned. 

Harry moves to turn around and walk back into the apartment and Louis’ hand moves with a mind of its own, reaching out for Harry’s arm.

“Do you want to go home?”

Harry looks down at Louis’ fingers curled around his forearm, then back up at Louis.

“I owe you one,” Louis adds, remembering how Harry picked him up and drove him home just a few nights ago. 

Louis drives Harry home, and they don’t talk about it. 

**

The day of the banquet, Louis lets himself sleep in. No alarms, phone on silent. He spends his morning soaking in a bath, then goes out to the mall.

“It must be the night of the party,” Kaye observes as they snip at Louis’ hair. 

Louis smiles at them through the mirror. 

“Are you taking anyone special this year?”

“No,” Louis laughs. “Still just me and my friends on the team.”

Kaye nods. “Maybe next year.”

“Maybe.”

Louis admires Kaye’s work in the mirror when they finish, then meets them at the front to pay. From there, Louis wanders, feeling like he has all the time in the world. He browses the stores, not looking for anything in particular. Eventually, he finds himself at his next actual destination to pick up his suit. 

“Tomlinson,” he gives his name to the attendant. 

Louis had his suit tailored the previous week, and he’s just excited to have it. It’s been a while since he got himself a new one, and this event felt like the perfect time. 

The suit is handed to him in a bag and he’s free to go, having already paid in full. Now that he has something in his hands, he no longer feels an urge to wander. Instead, he heads for the direction of the entrance he came in, ready to get in his car and leave. 

When Louis gets home, he calls Zayn. Every year, they get ready together. 

“Hey,” Zayn answers on the first ring. “Are you coming over?”

“That’s what I was calling to ask about,” Louis laughs. “I’ll be there soon.”

Louis makes sure he has everything he needs, including an overnight bag for when he inevitably crashes at Zayn and Liam’s at the end of the night, then heads out the door. 

**

“Okay, Harry and Niall are going to be here soon,” Liam announces, reading the group chat messages on his phone while they get ready. 

“And Nick?” Louis asks.

“Driving himself to the place, I think.” 

It’s just past five o’clock, which isn’t all that late, but the sun is already starting to disappear. They can start arriving at five, but the boys show up a little bit late every year without fail, since dinner isn’t until half past six, anyways.

Louis lets Zayn adjust his tie for him as Liam goes to open the door for Niall and Harry. 

“You look good, Lou.”

Louis looks up from where he’d been watching Zayn’s hands. 

“We both look good.”

Zayn laughs and steps away, leading Louis out of his bedroom where the other boys can now be heard in the living room. 

The air is sucked out of Louis’ lungs. All the boys are wearing black. All of them except Harry, who is standing there in a metallic purple suit and black dress shirt, no tie to be seen. 

Louis can’t draw his eyes away, though he’s sure Harry has noticed. 

“We sure clean up nice, boys,” Niall says, breaking the tension that’s rapidly building. 

They all agree and get to chatting, and Zayn slips away to call a taxi van. Niall and Liam always manage to stick together, since they’re the two who don’t partake in the sport, which leaves Louis standing on his own. 

“Hey,” Harry approaches.

“Hey,” Louis replies. “I really like your suit,” he says, as if it hadn’t been made clear by his obvious staring just moments ago.

“Thanks.”

_Is he.... Blushing?_

“I’m sure Nick will like it, too.”

Harry draws his eyebrows and purses his lips.

“Hopefully.”

The van arrives, and when Liam takes the front seat, Louis and Zayn pile into the back row while Harry and Niall take the middle section. 

“Let’s go boys,” Zayn smiles as they cheer quietly. 

They buzz excitedly the whole way there, then walk in together, feeling like they own the night. None of them have coats to check, so they walk straight into the dining area, heading for their table near the front. The girls and Nick are already there. 

“Hey,” they all say together as the boys take their seats.

Nick stands up, greeting Harry with a quick kiss on the cheek. Seems like they worked out whatever was going on the last time Louis saw them together.

Louis glances around and realizes Lauren looks like she feels out of place. 

“Lauren, this is Liam, Zayn’s roommate, and Niall, Harry’s roommate,” Louis tries to ease her mind a little, supposing it may have looked a little intimidating when the five of them strolled up all at once. 

It probably also doesn’t help that Lauren is the youngest on the team. She turned eighteen not too long ago and moved up from the junior team. The other girls have done a great job at making her feel welcome; always including her in their plans, but Louis thinks maybe she still isn’t fully comfortable, especially in a setting such as this one. 

“Nice to meet you both,” she smiles politely. 

“Wow, look at you kids,” James’ voice jumps in from behind Louis’ chair at the round table. “All dressed up. It’s good to see you all here tonight.”

James is holding a drink in his hands, raising it up. Everyone at the table reaches for their water glass, none of them having alcoholic beverages yet. 

“To the team,” James says. “And friends!”

“To the team and friends,” they all echo back, clinking their glasses together.

Louis catches a glimpse of Nick as they all cheers each other.

_If that._

“Well,” Louis pushes the thought away. “I think it’s time for some actual drinks,” he stands up. “Anybody want anything?”

“One shot each on me,” James says. “Make it count.”

They’re all on their feet at the sound of that, making their way to the bar. As they bicker about what to order, Harry’s voice drowns them all out.

“Can’t go wrong with a kamikaze.”

“Ew,” Louis turns to look at him. “Yes, you can.”

Louis seems to be outnumbered as everyone else slowly agrees, probably just content to be settling on something.

“You don’t have to do it, Louis. The nine of us will do a shot and you can just watch,” Harry smirks. “Play your role of buzzkill so well.”

“In your dreams,” Louis rolls his eyes, turning away from Harry and leaning up against the counter. 

The bartender pours ten kamikazes and lines them all up. Everyone takes one and taps it against the counter at the same time before downing it. 

Louis contorts his face at the sour taste. If he never does another one of those, he’ll be just fine. 

The girls all head back to the table, unfazed by the shot. Niall offers to buy the first round for the boys. They’d all agreed on sticking to canned beer for the night, making it easier to order and keep track of who drinks what. After grabbing their cans of beer, they head back to the table, just as they’re about to begin drawing table numbers to get dinner. 

“What table are we at?” Louis asks as he takes his seat.

“Wow, you really can’t handle your liquor, can you?” Harry mocks him. 

Louis just makes a face back at him from across the table. 

“Lucky number five,” Gigi answers, lifting up the centrepiece with the number and setting it down again. 

Louis watches as Zayn leans in and whispers something in her ear, then doesn’t miss the smile growing on her face when he leans away. 

As it turns out, Gigi is wrong, and table number five is not lucky. They’re the last to be called to fill their plates. It doesn’t matter, considering there’s more than enough food, but it’s never fun to be last. They grow hungrier and hungrier with each table that lines up before them. 

Feeling particularly perceptive, Louis catches a comment Nick makes as Harry fills his plate happily, simultaneously filling Louis with rage. 

“Don’t you guys have a tournament in a few days?” 

It seems innocent enough, but the implication is painstakingly obvious. 

“Hey, Nick,” Louis says calmly from behind him, waiting for him to turn around. “Shut the fuck up.”

Nick turns around fully now, body squared up to Louis’. 

“What’s your problem?”

Louis raises his hands, not wanting to cause a scene. “I’m just saying. Not your body, no opinion.”

Harry grabs Nick’s arm to turn him around then, but not before throwing a small smile over Nick’s shoulder in Louis’ direction. Louis pretends he doesn’t notice. 

Once they’ve all got their food, they head back to the table and eat as the MC speaks. Eventually, he calls James up for his annual speech, who takes the time to praise his competition teams, as well as all the other students coming up. He doesn’t forget to mention the family and friends that support them, knowing how crucial they are to the functioning of the studio, as well. Everyone applauds when he’s done, and Louis can’t help but feel grateful in the moment. The people surrounding him are a group that means a lot, and will always hold a special place in his heart when he looks back one day. 

When dinner is over, they present the awards, which are tailored to the kids’ programs. Louis had put Alex’s name forward to James for a leadership award, and when she goes to collect it at the front, Louis knows he made the right call, judging by the smile on her face. 

“That your kid?” Zayn leans over and asks Louis as they clap for her.

“Yeah,” Louis answers. “She’s a little mini-me,” he looks over at Harry, who is listening in on their conversation. “She even has a rival and everything.”

Harry chuckles and rolls his eyes, looking away from Louis and Zayn. As Alex walks back to her table, she passes right by Louis, who gives her a high-five, and the rest of the table cheers loudly for her once more in support. 

As always, when James finishes with their awards, he presents the competition teams, calling them to the front one by one, where he announces their standings for everyone. He starts with the juniors, who only compete locally, few and far between, but are doing extremely well this season, given it’s almost over. Louis watches fondly as they all come from the same table, remembering the days that him and Zayn were part of the junior team together. Louis looks over at Lauren, who watches longingly, probably missing her friends from that group.

“Hey,” Louis leans forward and whispers to her. “When this is over, you can go sit with them, you know. They have an empty seat.”

Lauren smiles back at Louis and nods as he leans back in his seat, continuing to applaud for the younger group. Once they’ve all returned to their seats, James starts presenting the senior team, starting with the girls. Louis makes sure to cheer extra loud for Lauren, causing everyone else to do the same. Anything he can do to make her feel like part of their team. 

Out of the three boys, Zayn is first, leaving only five at the table, still cheering loudly for each name.

“Harry Styles,” James calls. 

Louis continues to applaud, knowing the attention is on his table and it wouldn’t look good if he didn’t. Harry stands up, and Nick places a hand on the small of his back before he walks away.

“And Louis Tomlinson.” 

Louis stands up and can hear his black belt prep students cheering loudly from their table in the back of the room. 

It feels good. 

“Don’t look so smug, you’re not actually that popular,” Harry whispers when Louis takes his spot next to him. 

“You’re just mad they like me better,” Louis smiles out into the crowd as James talks. 

“This season, I expect all seven competitors standing up here right now to make it far. In fact, every single one of them has already secured their place in provincials, coming up in January,” James announces, which is news to all of them. 

Louis suspects he didn’t tell them so he could get their pure reaction in this moment. And it works. 

“Eh!” They all yell together, drowning out any noise coming from the onlookers in their seats. 

Louis turns to Zayn and hugs him strongly before going over to congratulate the girls. When he turns back around, he sees Harry and Zayn embracing, and Harry whispering in Zayn’s ear. Louis ignores it and quickly hugs each of the girls before taking his spot back in the line. 

“Congratulations, Louis,” Harry says emotionlessly, staring straight ahead. 

“You too,” Louis answers, also not looking over. “Hopefully you’ll actually earn your spot at nationals.”

Louis can feel Harry’s head turn towards him, so he looks over, too. The look on Harry’s face is unreadable, but he nods at Louis when their eyes meet. James asks them to take their seats back and he continues with the night. The only thing left before the DJ starts and the photo booth opens is the slideshow of photos from the year. 

Everyone laughs and aws, reminiscing over the last year. And then it’s over, and the DJ is playing the first song. 

“We need another round,” Zayn tells them. “I’ll go buy.” 

Louis goes with him to help carry the beer back to the group. He watches as all of his students make their way to the dance floor, laughing and already having a good time. He glances back at their parents, all becoming friends at their own table. He feels good. 

They make it back to the table with their drinks, and suggest they take some nice team photos in the booth. The seven of them head over, each getting a copy sent to their phone, Louis insisting that Lauren keeps the physical copy that prints.

They all finish their drinks before heading to the dance floor. Immediately, Louis gets pulled away by his students, who claim he has to dance with them first. Louis supposes they make the rules, so he follows along, jumping around with them. He watches Zayn take Gigi’s hand and lead her to an open space, and sees Harry press himself up close against Nick, moving together in the rhythm. He watches as Harry wraps his arms around Nick’s neck, but also sees the way Harry flinches when Nick pulls him closer by the waist. 

Louis finds himself wondering what it would be like to be loved by Harry. Maybe he should ask Nick, but truthfully, Louis suspects he doesn’t actually know, either. And that’s when it hits him, the _something_ that never sat quite right with him and Zayn; Harry doesn’t love him. 

Louis shakes the thought away, tries to forget he ever even had it.

Louis focuses on having fun with his students, who are expecting him to do so. He jumps around and laughs along with them, even thanking them for the honour when the song ends. He walks past Harry and Nick, who don’t seem to notice him slink by. He gets back to the table and sits with Niall and Liam, who are still there for whatever reason. 

“Hey, Louis,” Niall greets him, though he hasn’t been gone long.

Louis nods at him, then picks up his beer and takes a long sip. 

“Woah,” Liam laughs. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Louis answers, putting the empty can back on the table. “Seriously, this is great. I’m glad you guys are here.” 

“I’ll go get some more drinks,” Liam smiles. 

“We should get some pictures with the five of us,” Niall says once he’s gone.

“Don’t you mean six?” Louis raises an eyebrow.

“No,” Niall confirms. “I meant five.”

Louis scoffs, but won’t be the one to argue with him. 

Somehow, they all end up back at the table, and the second Nick excuses himself to the washroom, Niall suggests they hit the photo booth. It doesn’t seem to raise any suspicion for anyone, though Louis’ great perception is diminishing with each drink, so he can’t be completely sure. The five of them pile inside the crowded booth, and change poses each time the camera clicks. Just before the last flash, Harry tries to push Louis out of the booth, but Louis catches his balance and pushes Harry into the wall, stumbling forward as he grips his suit collar. The last flash goes off, and the three boys in front of them don’t seem to pay any mind to what’s going on behind them.

Louis lets go of Harry’s jacket before brushing himself off. They all slip out and Louis grabs the copy before anybody else can, making everyone else get the text.

He ignores Harry’s smug face. 

They walk back to their table, where they all finish their drinks and go to the dance floor. They find the girls and dance with them as a group. Before they know it, they have another drink in their hands, courtesy of Harry. Somewhere along the way, Nick announces he has to go and is walking towards the door. Harry doesn’t seem to mind; just takes another sip of his drink and continues dancing. 

It’s almost one in the morning when they decide they’ve had enough. James calls them a taxi van and they all wait inside the front entrance for it to arrive. The girls get a cab before them, and they all say their goodbyes as they leave. 

The silence is daunting as they wait. There’s not much to say at the end of the night. They pile into the van; Louis crawls into the back, assuming Zayn is following behind him. But when he sits down, he sees Zayn in front of him, and turns to find Harry beside him. Before Louis can say anything, the van is pulling away. Louis watches out the window as the night disappears behind him. 

He turns around and looks forward. In front of them, Zayn and Liam are chatting back and forth. Louis turns to look at Harry, who is also looking straight ahead, visibly unfocused. 

“Did you have fun tonight, Harold?”

Harry turns his head and just looks at Louis for a moment. 

“Yeah,” he pauses. “Did you?” 

Louis doesn’t break eye contact with Harry; he thinks Harry might be cracking a little bit, letting a certain sadness become visible in his eyes. Louis’ perception is still good, but his mind is too hazy to analyze what he observes. So instead, he just looks at Harry for the sake of looking at him.

“Yeah.” 


	4. december

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> louis' birthday. new years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one was so fun to write i hope you enjoy :)

For the first time in his life, Louis spends a whole week wishing he could forget the banquet. It doesn’t help that he can’t stop looking at the pictures from the photo booth of the five of them. He buries it deep in his drawer, hoping to hide it from himself, but it never seems to work, and he finds himself digging it out and smiling down at the recent memory. 

The problem is that every time he sees Harry, he sees Nick; the one who made a comment about how much Harry was eating, the one who got to hold Harry close on the dance floor. And, by Louis’ momentous realization, the one who Harry doesn’t love. 

Louis wants to tell Zayn, but fears his reaction. Maybe it’s been long enough since he mentioned Harry that Zayn won’t think anything of it, but maybe Zayn will only grow more resentful. All Louis wants to do is say it out loud, have someone to talk about it with, but he knows it can’t be Zayn. 

That’s how he ends up texting someone he’s never talked to alone, outside of the group.

“Hey, I’m glad you could make it,” Louis smiles from his seat as Niall moves to sit down.

_This is probably a bad idea._

“Of course, man. I have to say I was kind of surprised when I read the message and then realized it wasn’t for the whole group but, here we are,” Niall laughs. 

“So how are you?” 

“Fine,” Niall looks at Louis suspiciously. “How are you?”

“I’m good.” 

“Alright, so, I don’t want to be that person,” Niall tilts his head slightly. “But what is this about?”

They both take a sip of their coffee; Niall, waiting for an answer, and Louis, thinking of the answer to give him. 

“Well,” Louis puts his cup down on the table.

_This was definitely a bad idea._

“Hold on,” Niall’s eyes light up. “Is this about Harry?”

“Um,” Louis shakes his head, planning to deny it all.

But Niall just laughs. “What do you want to know?”

“Huh?”

“Come on, Louis,” Niall smiles. “I know that’s what you’re here for, I just don’t know why. And Harry’s my best friend and a pretty good roommate, but we’re all friends now, so what is it?”

_We’re all friends now?_

_Niall knows Harry and I aren’t friends, right?_

If Niall doesn’t know Louis and Harry aren’t friends, that further complicates the ethics of this whole thing in Louis’ head. He feels even guiltier than he did before.

“Yeah,” Louis agrees. “Right. So, I guess the biggest thing is Nick. I just can’t seem to like him but I thought maybe if I could get some insight-”

“Yeah, man, I heard you call him out at the banquet. And I was so happy. Harry never would have said anything. So I’m glad somebody stood up for him if he wasn’t going to do it himself.”

Louis doesn’t know what to say.

“Truthfully,” Niall continues. “I don’t know why they’re together.”

_Perfect._

Louis tries his best to act casual, though this is the exact direction he wanted.

“Do you think Harry even likes him?”

“I’m sure he does at least a little,” Niall nods, though he doesn’t sound as sure as he’s trying to make himself seem. “I’ve never actually seen Harry in a relationship before so I have to assume there’s something there.”

Louis tries hard to remember his first ever conversation with Nick, outside the gym before Harry came out. He thinks about how Nick had said he asked Harry out weeks before that, but Harry rejected him, only to change his mind and call him weeks later. The only thing Louis can’t piece together is what triggered the change. 

And then he remembers. Driving Harry home after having a few drinks, asking him if he’s really _just_ training with Zayn. Telling him he doesn’t deserve someone as good as Zayn, and that he’s never even seen Harry in a relationship. 

_Is this because of me?_

Louis tries to push the thought away, scolding himself for making it about him. But once the thought pops into his head, it’s built itself a home and doesn’t want to go anywhere. 

“What?” Niall asks, seeing the wheels turning in Louis’ brain. 

“Nothing,” Louis lies, then smiles to cover it all up. “Who knows, maybe Nick will grow on me.”

_He won’t._

He leaves the coffee shop that morning in a hurry, now determined to talk to Zayn about it all. Louis doesn’t even care anymore about what he’ll say; at the end of the day, Zayn is his best friend and he’s the one he wants to theorize with. Besides, Louis knows deep down that even if Zayn picks on him for it, he’ll still be supportive. 

He texts Zayn to buzz him in, then moves quickly to his apartment and knocks frantically on the door. 

“You’re acting like there’s an emergency,” Zayn lets him in. “What is going on?” 

“Sorry,” Louis exhales, forcing himself to relax a little. “It’s not,” he laughs. “Not an emergency.”

Zayn nods, walking over to stand next to him near the island.

“Well, what is it then, Lou?”

“Don’t get mad.”

“Ah,” Zayn smiles. “So it’s Harry.”

Louis hates that he knows. Hates that he’s put himself in a situation in which saying “don’t get mad” tells Zayn everything he needs to know. 

“Yes,” Louis rolls his eyes. “Do you remember how we were talking about them the night before Halloween?” Louis glances over into the living room. “They were sitting there after fighting.”

“Yeah,” Zayn nods. 

“Remember how we couldn’t figure out what was weird?”

“I mean…” Zayn rubs at the back of his neck.

“I figured it out at the banquet,” Louis keeps going, on a roll he can’t stop now. “Harry doesn’t like him.”

Louis watches as Zayn’s face changes into confusion.

“Wait,” he shakes his head. “You just realized that? Not even a week ago?”

Louis doesn’t know how to react. 

“What, you knew already?” 

Zayn laughs. “Yeah, I mean,” he pauses to gain his composure. “That much was obvious. I just couldn’t figure out why.”

His wording catches Louis’ attention.

“But you have now?”

Zayn looks at Louis, as if to contemplate whether or not he should answer. 

“He wants to get a reaction,” Zayn says slowly. “Out of you.”

_Maybe it’s working._

Zayn reads Louis’ mind. 

“And I think it’s working.”

**

It’s the last training class for the black belt prep students before their big day. Louis isn’t worried, not even a little bit, because they’ve all put in the work and are more than ready. Each one of them is testing, and it will be a little bittersweet when he gets an entirely new class of students preparing for the test. It’s just how the cycle goes. 

He watches on as they all practice on their own; Louis gave them the class to focus on whatever they thought was necessary. They all decided to stretch together, then go through the physical aspects. They run the mile, which is something they do often enough that their bodies don’t seem to care anymore. They do a few push-ups, observing their form in the mirrors and helping each other fix any minor details. Then they go through all their patterns, step by step, just going through the motions. 

Louis occasionally calls out to fix something if nobody else notices a mistake. Though he also knows minor mistakes are not cause for major alarm. 

By the end of the session, the only thing they didn’t do was any sparring. But his students are strong fighters, and he wouldn’t want them to risk injury right before the test, anyways. 

“Alright,” Louis says, not prepared for any sort of motivational speech. “Stretch every day. Drink lots of water. Stay focused and I’ll see you this weekend,” he smiles.

He looks around to see each face smiling back at him. 

“You guys are going to do great,” he adds. “I can’t wait to see you guys on our comp team.”

James walks in then, arriving for the team training session. Louis dismisses the students and waves at his own coach, who is smiling proudly at him in the entrance. Behind him, Lauren and Harry walk in together. Louis waves at them, too, in a good mood after his last class. 

Harry looks particularly confused, but brings his hand up to wave nonetheless as he leans in and whispers something to Lauren. 

They all wait for the students to leave, high-fiving them on their way out, and wishing them luck on their upcoming test. Once they’re all gone, the others step inside. Harry and Lauren split up towards the locker rooms and James heads into his box office. Zayn walks in then, and sends Louis a smile from across the room.

Louis follows James towards the box office.

“Do you think they’re ready?”

“I do,” Louis answers honestly. “I’m excited to watch them this weekend.”

“Me too,” James nods. “But let’s focus on your training so you’re ready for the following weekend.”

“Come on, James,” Louis laughs. “You already know I am,” he steps out of the small space and stops, turning around. “You know all of us are.”

They train for just over three hours that night, but they keep it light. James doesn’t push them too hard. Louis figures it’s for the same reason he didn’t have his students spar; why risk injury? They’ve all secured their spot in provincials, so there’s no need to be extremely intense right now. 

They all go home, none of them in the mood to hang out after the session. Louis is surprised to find himself slightly disappointed. He checks the calendar hanging on his wall to look at the training schedule, only to find they don’t even have another group training session for a whole week. And Louis doubts they’ll pick a random day to hang out, though he’s been surprised before, so hope is not all lost. 

_Why does it matter?_

Louis knows he could make plans with Zayn anytime, but there’s something about being all together in the group of five that makes Louis feel genuinely happy, despite the inclusion of Harry’s presence. Maybe somebody will suggest something in their group chat. 

They don’t. 

The next time Louis sees Harry and Zayn, it’s a total surprise, and earlier than he expects. 

“What are you guys doing here?” Louis whispers as the two slide onto the empty space of the mat he’s sitting on.

“Your kids are testing,” Zayn says from beside Louis as Harry leans forward to look at Louis past Zayn. “We’re here to support you, and therefore, them.” 

Louis smiles at the two of them and then turns to watch as the masters begin, explaining to the students how everything is going to work. 

They start with the mile. The students are divided into three groups of four. There’s the five students from Louis’ class, and seven from James’. Each group completes their run, then moves onto the stretching portion on the other side of the room.

Louis watches as Alex sits into each of her splits with ease, then stands up as she’s instructed to stretch from a standing position. She kicks one leg above her head and grabs hold of her ankle, pulling it straight up. They command her to release and switch, which she does with no problems. 

“She’s pretty good,” Zayn whispers to Louis.

All three of them are drawn to her. It’s as if the other three running and the other two stretching aren’t even in the same room as her. It’s unfortunate, but it’s simply because they aren’t on the same playing field as her. Natural skill draws attention. 

“I agree,” Harry says. “She’s doing well.”

The only other student who compares in obvious natural talent is Ava, who Alex claims is her rival. As Ava stretches, Louis notices Alex watching her with discontent. Alex catches Louis’ eye, and he gives her a smile to reassure her that she just needs to concentrate on what she’s doing. Alex nods, seeming to understand, and goes back to stretching on her own before the physical work.

“She’s good, too,” Harry nods towards Ava. “She’s not yours, though?”

“No,” Louis shakes his head. “Unfortunately not.”

When the last group finishes their stretching test, they get set up to start their push-ups. They all go at the same time, starting on the command of one of the masters and ending after one minute. Their number totals don’t count as much as their form, but they’re expected to complete a minimum of twenty. All of them manage to do so, and their scores are written down on the masters’ clipboards. 

They do sit-ups next, and they’re partnered up to hold each others’ legs. Alex is paired up with Ava, and Louis watches the disgruntled looks form on both of their faces. Louis wishes he could step in and tell them to cut it out, that now isn’t the time, but they’re both mature enough to work together to accomplish the same goal. 

They’re given a short break before their forms. Louis’ students come over to where the boys are sitting and watching.

“Well?” Keaton asks.

“You guys are doing great,” Louis smiles. “And you’re almost done.”

“Seriously,” Zayn says. “Louis told us you guys were good, but wow.”

“Thank you, Zayn sir,” Alex blushes.

Zayn looks over at Harry, who widens his eyes at the whole thing. 

“I’m excited to watch you all spar,” Harry adds. 

“Forms first,” Louis says sternly. “Stay focused.”

They all walk away, but Alex sticks around.

“Wait until you see what I’ve got up my sleeve today,” she smiles.

Louis looks at her intently. “I’m excited to see,” he has no idea what she’s talking about. “Go practice with your friends.” 

Alex walks away.

“I know what she’s got up her sleeve,” Zayn says smugly, only adding to Louis’ confusion. 

One of the masters calls them back to the centre where he lines them up in order and has them sit down on the outer edge of the gym. 

Alex is second to last, seeming to be lined up by age. Louis watches on as all the students perform their one randomly selected form, followed by goryeo pattern, which is required for all. 

“I don’t miss this,” Zayn whispers between students as they clap politely. “Totally different feeling than competing,” he turns to Harry. “What was your black belt test like?”

“Um,” Harry thinks. “Pretty similar, honestly. Except we were a really small studio so it was just four of us.”

Louis realizes he never knew that. In fact, he doesn’t even know the name of Harry’s old studio. Does it still exist? Does he keep in contact with his old friends? Louis realizes that when it comes to Harry, he doesn’t know much of anything at all, actually. 

Louis may or may not clap a little bit louder for his students. Zayn and Harry may or may not do the same. 

Alex is his last student to perform. They call her up and she visibly exhales as she takes her spot in the centre. 

“Charyut!”

She taps her legs.

“Goryeo, joonbi.” 

Her body relaxes, stepping her left foot out and gathering her hands in front of her. They rise and push out, steady like her breathing. 

“Sijak!”

Alex turns sharply into her first move, pauses, then chambers her leg for her double sidekick and-

“No way!” Louis almost yells, hands flying out beside him, in front of Zayn’s chest.

Louis had no idea she had finally gotten the vertical. It’s impressive to be able to do it, let alone to make it look good. When she turns around and does the same thing on the other side, Louis nearly loses it.

He turns to Zayn. “You helped her with this!”

“I did,” Zayn chuckles lightly, still trying to remain quiet. 

“Insane,” Louis shakes his head, all his focus still on Alex’s sharp but fluid movements. 

She finishes the pattern, yelling louder than she ever has before, and slips Louis a small smile before the master commands her back to ready position. Alex bows before returning to her spot on the ground. The last student performs, and then forms are over.

All that’s left is sparring. 

Louis’ five gather around him, while Zayn and Harry help them tie their gear.

“I’m so proud of you guys,” Louis says. “This is it. The last part of your test.”

Each of them are noticeably excited, each probably for a different reason, but excited regardless. The master calls them back and all of their heads snap to their spots on the ground, before looking at Louis one last time. 

“Go on,” Louis ushers them away. “I’ll coach you all.”

They all start to walk away when Zayn speaks up.

“Hey, Alex.”

She turns around to look at him.

“Nice sidekicks.”

Alex grins, then turns to look at Louis, who nods in approval as well before she turns and runs back to her spot. 

In competitions, the three rounds are two minutes each. In a promotion test setting, they only do two rounds, each lasting a minute and half. Every student of Louis’ will get to fight a student of James’, and James’ two additional students will fight each other. So Louis knows it’s coming when it’s Alex against Ava. 

Louis can tell she’s nervous. He squeezes her shoulder as he watches James coaching Ava across from them. The master acting as referee calls them to the centre.

“Fight like you know how,” Louis says.

Alex looks over her shoulder one last time and nods. 

The first round is rather tame, both girls keeping things light, nothing too fancy. Alex comes back to Louis for her break and isn’t happy. 

“I can do better,” she huffs.

“It’s fine, Alex,” Louis shakes his head. “You’re doing great. The expectations here today are not competition level.”

She nods silently, then takes a small sip of water before returning for the second round. 

“Kyorugi joonbi!”

The two girls take their fighting stance, bouncing lightly on their toes, both refocused and recharged. Everything is going fine, until Alex gets herself caught in a vulnerable position, and Ava takes full advantage, ending with Alex on the floor. 

The referee jumps between them to pause the match and looks down at Alex, waiting. 

“Get up, Alex,” Louis whispers under his breath. 

Just as Louis is getting ready to walk over and help her up and out, Ava extends her hand to Alex on the ground. Louis watches on as Alex looks up at it, before taking it and letting Ava pull her to her feet. Something about the sight makes Louis feel simultaneously nostalgic and hopeful. The two girls share a small smile, then continue their match. At the end, everyone applauds their fight, including Ava’s sportsmanship, as they bow and shake hands politely. 

Alex returns to Louis, who pats her on the helmet briefly. 

“Good fight, kid.”

Louis goes back to his seat with Zayn and Harry as the belt presentation begins. He squeezes between them quickly, rushing to sit before they start. Zayn eyes him but doesn’t say anything. Louis ignores it, in favour of the sensation of Harry’s thigh nudging his own.

“Taking you out after this,” he says, eyes trained on the centre of the dojang, blissfully unaware of the way Louis’ breath hitches at the words. “To celebrate,” he adds, finally looking over.

Louis smiles and nods slightly, and doesn’t say anything when Harry’s thigh presses into his and doesn’t move again until they’re standing up.

Every student passes their test, and one by one, they remove their belt and have a black belt tied around their waist by the grand master. The ceremony concludes shortly after, and Louis takes another moment to congratulate his students before heading back to where Zayn and Harry are waiting for him in the front entrance.

“Are you ready?” Zayn asks.

“Yeah,” Louis slings his bag over his shoulder as they walk out together. 

They get into Zayn’s car, and Harry allows Louis to take the front seat. 

“Well, where are we going?”

Zayn suggests Liam’s bar.

Louis thinks that sounds like a great idea.

**

“So,” Louis drops his eyes, picking at the fries on the table when there’s a natural lull in the conversation. “How are things with Nick? Haven’t seen him since the banquet,” he looks up at Harry slowly.

“Fine,” Harry shrugs. “He’s just been busy.”

“You should see if he wants to come to our tournament next weekend,” Zayn interjects before Louis can open his mouth and say something stupid. 

“I don’t think so,” Harry shies away. “He doesn’t care to watch.”

Louis covers up a scoff. He can’t say that surprises him. 

“That’s alright,” Zayn moves past it. “I’m sure we’ll see him soon.”

That’s the last they talk about Nick. For the two hours that follow, they pick at different bar foods brought to them and slowly sip on one drink each. They talk about a lot of things, but mainly taekwondo, seeing as it’s their main point in common. When Zayn drives them home, he takes Harry first. 

“Um,” Harry starts, as he steps out of the car. “Did you guys want to come in?” 

Louis doesn’t want to. The time they spent in the bar was shockingly peaceful, but once they’re no longer in public, all bets are off. 

“I can’t tonight,” he lies. “But Zayn, if you want to stay, I can walk.”

“Louis, it’s December and it’s freezing,” Zayn rolls his eyes. “I’ll drive you home,” he looks back at Harry. “But I’ll come back after.”

Harry nods. “See you soon. Bye, Louis.”

“Bye.”

Harry closes the door and jogs to the front step of his building, trying to get out of the cold. 

“Alright, so what are you doing tonight? Deliveries?” Zayn laughs. 

“Nothing,” Louis shakes his head. “Not fighting with Harry.”

Zayn nods as he puts the car in drive and doesn’t make any further comment. He drops Louis off, then heads back to Harry’s. Louis can’t help but wonder what the two of them will spend the night doing. Is Niall there, too? Or are they alone? 

Louis tells himself he doesn’t care. He made the choice not to stay. So he doesn’t care what happens. 

**

“Alright,” James says as the five of them come together in the middle of the gym. “Grab your stuff, we’re crossing the street.”

All of them groan in agreement that what they’re about to do is most definitely going to suck. 

Right across the street is James’ apartment building. It stands thirty stories tall. And James loves to make them run the stairs. It isn’t often, but it isn’t as though it’s a special treat, either. 

They all grab their bags and refill their water bottles before slipping on their shoes and jackets. Together, they walk out and across the street, where James swipes his access card and allows them into the building. Everyone drops their things in the lobby and changes into their clean trainers.

“Your trainers look awful,” Harry says to Louis as they tie their shoes. 

“They’ve seen better days,” Louis admits, knowing he’s been wearing the same ones for a few too many years. 

“Get some new ones, would you?”

“I really should.”

“Lauren, you’ve got one to six,” James interrupts them.

James begins assigning them floors. By dividing up thirty floors evenly between them, everyone gets to cover six. But they have to make it up and down five times, running the equivalent of the entire building. 

“I’m feeling generous, so you can all take the elevator up to your starting point.”

The four of them who need to go up start to move towards the elevator.

“Oh,” James says, making them all turn around. “Fastest time is exempt from sprints when we get back.”

None of them show any reaction; too focused now to be annoyed anymore. James also lets them know that their sprints will correlate with how many minutes it takes to complete the flights. This piece of information derives a slight negative reaction as they wait for the elevator, all knowing they’ll have at least three sprints to do. And that’s if they’re moving fast. 

Gigi, Zayn, Harry and Louis step into the elevator once the doors open. One by one, they push the button for the floor of their starting point. Gigi gets off first at six. 

“Good luck, guys,” Zayn says as he steps off at twelve. 

Louis finds himself in a frustratingly familiar situation, alone with Harry in an elevator. Fortunately, this one isn’t set up to scare them.

“See you after I beat you,” Harry says casually as Louis steps off at eighteen.

Louis rolls his eyes and gets himself settled, hearing Harry shout down the stairs shortly after.

“I’m here, James!”

“Alright, time starts…” James bellows from the ground floor. “Now!” 

Louis takes off at almost full speed, wanting to save his energy to empty his tank right at the end. All he can feel is the thrumming in his ears of feet running up and the vibration they create on the floor beneath him. 

Louis’ mind goes blank, as it often does when completing tasks as physically draining as this one. All the way up, all the way back down. That’s one. Four times to go.

As Louis makes it to the top for his second set, he runs into Harry on the twenty-fourth floor. Which of them is ahead? How could Harry possibly have passed Louis by six flights?

They stare at each other for a moment before both turning around and continuing. Louis, flying back down, and Harry, heading back up. 

Louis doesn’t think about it as he keeps going. If he thinks, he slows down. He needs to finish first. He runs into Harry again. 

“Is this your last one?” Louis pants.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Harry smirks, but his face falters as he puts his hands on his knees. 

“Shut up,” Louis answers, but then notices Harry seems to actually be having a hard time. “Hey,” his voice naturally gets quieter as he follows Harry’s body motion, leaning down. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Harry obviously lies, still breathing hard. 

Louis pauses and thinks. He doesn’t know what to do.

“Call time,” he instructs Harry. “It’s believable,” he says, then adds with only a small hint of bitterness, “You would have been done already.”

Harry catches his breath long enough to yell out to James. As soon as he does, Louis places his hands gently on Harry’s back, guiding him to lie down on the carpeted floor. He brings Harry’s arms above his head, opening up his chest. Harry keeps his eyes closed as Louis manipulates his body carefully, trying to gain control of his breathing. 

And then Louis turns around and takes off, leaving Harry alone on the ground. He may have helped Harry, but he will still have to do the sprints, which means he needs to finish as quickly as possible. He flies back down the six floors and calls time.

He’s done. 

But still, he turns himself around and flies back up the stairs. What’s one more trip up?

Louis finds Harry exactly how he left him, except now he’s blinking back tears. They’re definitely out of embarrassment, and nothing else. 

“I thought you were done,” Harry says, breath steadier now. 

“I am,” Louis says, standing over Harry. 

“But you came back,” Harry looks up at Louis.

“I did,” Louis thinks for just a second that it may have been a mistake. “Come on.”

He hesitates, but then offers his hand to Harry, who takes it without the same hesitation Louis showed.

“You owe me one,” Louis says, after pulling Harry to his feet. 

Harry half laughs as he lets go of Louis’ hand and brushes himself off. 

“Why do I feel like I’ve owed you one a lot lately?” 

Louis just rolls his eyes as the two of them exit the stairwell and head back to the elevators. They get to the ground floor just as Gigi is finishing, and Zayn and Lauren call time not long after, joining them in the lobby. 

“Alright,” James smiles. “No sprints for Harry. Louis has three, Gigi has four, and Zayn and Lauren both have five. Any objections?”

Nobody says anything.

“Then let’s go.”

Everyone huffs and goes to grab their things, but James stops Louis.

“Louis,” he looks at him sternly. “Do you know why we do the stairs here, and not somewhere else?” 

“Um,” Louis doesn’t enjoy the feeling of being interrogated. “Because you live here,” he says confidently. “So you can access the building.”

“That’s the first half,” he pats Louis on the shoulder. “But,” he adds, “you should know I’m also able to access the security cameras when we do this drill, so I can see you all.”

Louis closes his eyes, realizing what James is telling him. 

“You did good, today.”

“Hm?” 

“I know Harry didn’t finish. I also know you helped him. You’re a good teammate, Louis.”

_Teammate. Because we aren’t friends. Not even close._

“So good I don’t have to do sprints?” 

“You made your choice,” James laughs as they walk towards the door where everyone else is waiting. “And it was a sacrifice.”

By the time they get back, all of them are in full commission again, and the sprints don’t even feel that bad. What’s bad is the ab work that comes afterwards. They do planks and leg raises and twists, finishing with sit-ups. 

“Once you’re done, you’re free to go,” James tells them as they all start working towards one hundred. 

James always makes them lock legs to maintain their form. So while Gigi and Lauren are paired off together, Louis locks legs with Zayn and Harry. With his ankles wrapped around their calves, he digs himself into the ground and keeps moving. They have to raise their arms up and high-five at the top of each one, which means they also have to move together at the same speed. 

It’s just past the halfway point when Louis feels Harry’s foot really digging into his leg, trying to get a good hold.

“Ow,” Louis comments. “Are you struggling over there?” 

They high-five at the top.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me today,” Harry mutters.

“What are you talking about?” Zayn laughs. “At least you still had the fastest time on the stairs.”

Harry and Louis share a look that Zayn picks up on.

“I don’t know what happened, but I also don’t care to know,” he tells them as they meet at the top again. 

Louis laughs it off as they keep going, but stops at the feeling of pain in his stomach. No laughing during ab day, period. 

All five of them walk out together, Gigi and Lauren get into the same car, and Harry slides into the passenger seat of the running car waiting for him in the parking lot. Louis follows Zayn to his car, who doesn’t even bother asking if Louis wants to come over when he makes the turn towards his apartment. 

“What do you want for dinner?” He asks simply.

“Pasta?”

“I can do pasta,” Zayn laughs, then stops somewhat abruptly. “So what happened with Harry today? I hope you guys didn’t do anything dumb…” He trails off. “You know James watches the cameras while we run, right?”

_Not until today, actually._

“It was nothing,” Louis assures him. “He was just having a hard time after four, so I helped him. Told him to call it even though he wasn’t done, then went back up to check on him after I finished,” he shrugs casually. 

Zayn takes his eyes off the road to look at Louis incredulously. “You did that?”

Louis just nods.

“Interesting.” 

**

Harry and Louis don’t compete in poomsae anymore, given they’ve already been knocked out of a spot at provincials. James doesn’t care, and Louis doesn’t either. They cheer Zayn on from the sidelines before he starts and after he finishes, and once more when he’s presented with the gold medal in his division. They all grab their gear and head towards the warm-up room together. Zayn gets to go first, since his division is fighting before Harry and Louis’. They wish him luck and tell him they’ll watch if they can. Once Zayn disappears inside, Harry and Louis are left sitting outside the smaller gym. 

After a long silence, Harry is the one to break it. 

“What’s the plan for today?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” Harry shrugs. “We’re already going to provincials. What do you say we both lose our first match and call it a day?”

_It’s not a terrible idea. James couldn’t be here today, so who cares?_

“Yeah,” Louis nods. “Maybe that’s a good plan.”

They watch Zayn win his first match, then head into the warm-up room. For maybe the first time ever at a competition they run and stretch together. Neither of them say anything, but it doesn’t feel much different from when they train together in silence after Louis’ classes. 

Louis fights first, and keeps himself one point behind his opponent at all times. He loses.

Once Harry is sitting in the competition chair, with Louis and Zayn standing behind him, Zayn points towards the bleachers.

“I thought you said Nick wasn’t coming.”

Louis snaps his head to look where Zayn is pointing. Sure enough, Nick is sitting alone in the bleachers, waving down at them. 

“I didn’t think he was,” Harry smiles as he waves back.

Louis only waves because Zayn does too. 

The referee calls the competitors in, and the match starts. The first two rounds are fine; Harry trails by one or two points, but then in the third round, it’s like he unleashes the fighter he really is. He wins. 

After he bows and shakes hands with the opposing coach, he returns to his side, head hung low. Zayn has a hand on Louis’ arm, sensing that he’s going to burst. 

“What was that?” Louis whispers through gritted teeth, careful not to let anyone overhear, but Harry brushes right past him and heads towards the locker room. Louis follows him closely behind, while Zayn follows the both of them. 

As soon as Harry takes a step inside and turns around to face Louis, Louis is pushing him up against the nearest wall.

“Louis!” Zayn yells, but doesn’t actually make any sort of move to stop him. 

“What was that, Styles?” Louis actually yells now, and the only other person in the locker room simply looks the other way and walks out past Zayn, who apologizes quietly. 

Harry just looks at Louis where he has him pinned. 

“Are you trying to make me look bad?” Louis demands. “How’s it gonna look now when James finds out I lost?”

It was one thing when they both planned to do it. Very easily explained. But now that Louis is in it alone, it definitely won’t go over as well.

“I’ll tell him what happened,” Harry says casually, as if Louis isn’t right in his face. 

“You just always have to one-up me.”

“Why do you always think that’s what it is?” Harry raises his voice, shoving Louis off of him. “Did it not occur to you that maybe I didn’t want to lose the only match my boyfriend has ever come to watch?”

Louis goes silent for a moment, contemplating his next words.

“Tell me Harry,” he lowers his voice back to a normal volume. “Do you really care?”

Harry just stares at him in surprise. “Are you being serious?”

Louis doesn’t retaliate as Harry pushes past him, hitting his shoulder hard. 

“I’ll lose the next one if it will make you happy.”

“Okay,” Louis calls after him. “Do you really care about that, either?”

Harry stops beside Zayn, just inside the door, and turns around to look at Louis. The tension is palpable, and Louis doesn’t know what Harry is going to say or do next. 

As it turns out, the answer is nothing. He walks out, leaving Zayn to confront Louis. It’s a short conversation before the two of them leave to go watch Harry’s next match. He loses, like he said he would. Louis knows he could have won, so it must have been intentional. His theory is confirmed when Harry stares him down afterwards. 

“I thought you said you were one of the best,” Nick says to Harry as they’re all getting ready to leave. 

This is the second time now that the urge to punch Nick has been difficult to resist. Much like the time at the banquet, Harry doesn’t say anything to stand up for himself. And Louis has never been one to bite his tongue. 

“He is,” Louis confirms. “Why are you even with him if you keep putting him down?”

Louis spoke without looking at Nick, focused on walking out and leaving, calling it a day. So he doesn’t notice when Nick glides over, and he definitely doesn’t see it coming when his fist connects with his face. 

“Nick!” Louis hears Harry yell. 

Louis is on the floor, and scrambles to support himself on his elbows to make sure Nick doesn’t attack further. From the ground, he looks up at Harry, who is holding Nick tightly by the arm. Harry looks down at him pitifully, but doesn’t say or do anything else. Louis thinks it’s pretty typical of Harry, actually. 

Harry tugs Nick’s arm, pulling him away, eyes lingering on Louis on the ground. Once they’re out the door, Zayn helps Louis to his feet, 

“Let's go to med and get you some ice for that,” Zayn keeps a hand on his arm. “Or else this will be what you’re explaining to James, instead of why you lost.” 

Later that night, Louis’ phone rings, and it’s Harry’s name on the screen. 

“Hello,” he answers slowly.

“Hey, Louis,” Harry says. 

“What is it?”

Harry pauses. “How’s your face?”

“I’m hanging up,” Louis tells him.

“No,” Harry says quickly. “I’m calling to tell you I’m sorry about what happened.”

Louis sighs. “You don’t have to apologize, Harry.”

Louis silently wishes Harry would apologize to himself for letting this happen in the first place.

_Do you hear the way this guy talks to you?_

“I know,” Harry says quietly. “I feel like I do though.” 

“Can I ask you something?”

There’s a silence.

“Go ahead,” Harry urges him on. 

“Why don’t you defend yourself?”

_And why are you still with him after he says those things?_

Louis doesn’t even want to think about what kinds of things are said behind closed doors. Who stands up for Harry when there’s nobody else around?

“I don’t know,” Harry says. “He’s actually nice. Just very blunt, I guess.”

Louis doesn’t buy it; doesn’t believe Nick is actually nice. Nick is a lot of things, but nice is not one of them. 

“Okay.”

“Thank you,” Harry whispers.

“For what?” Louis makes it clear that he heard him. 

“Defending me.” 

Louis nods, but knows Harry can’t see him. 

“Goodnight, Harry,” he says, then hangs up the phone before Harry can say anything else.

Interestingly enough, Louis gets a half-assed apology text from Nick not even five minutes later.

**

“Alright, lunch is on me, since it’s your birthday,” Zayn offers to pay after they order at Louis’ favourite café. 

“We’re getting old,” Louis sighs. 

“Twenty-three is not old,” Zayn argues as he pulls out his wallet at the counter.

“It’s almost old enough for a quarter-life crisis.”

Zayn laughs. 

“Will some birthday training help?”

“Maybe,” Louis smiles. 

“Alright, let’s eat here, then we can go.” 

After sitting in the café long enough to feel ready to train, they head back out to Zayn’s car, who then drives them both to the dojang. Louis enters the passcode on the glass door, then slides it open enough for them to slip inside, before closing and locking it again. 

They train casually, warming up and stretching, then taking a break, doing some target kicking, then taking another break. They probably spend more time laying on the floor than actually training. 

“So,” Zayn turns his head on the ground to look at Louis. “What does this quarter life crisis entail?” 

“I don’t know,” Louis laughs to cover the genuine concern. “I’m the only one on the sparring team not in a committed relationship at this point, even though I’m the oldest.”

“Okay,” Zayn shakes his head. “First of all, you’re barely older than me and Harry,” he laughs. “Second of all, Gigi and I are just going out casually. We haven’t discussed it much.”

Louis nods, though he knows Zayn likes her enough for it to become serious if she feels the same. 

“Third,” Zayn says.

“How many prongs does this point have?”

“Too many. Third,” he repeats. “I wouldn’t call Harry’s relationship committed. They’re truly a time bomb. And finally, don’t compare yourself to us,” Zayn hits him. “You know better. Just because your life doesn’t currently look like the rest of ours, doesn’t mean it’s not right.” 

_I don’t want to be alone._

“Thanks, Zayn.”

They leave after spending a few hours alternating between training, joking around and deep conversation. When Zayn takes the turn off towards Harry and Niall’s apartment, Louis eyes him suspiciously. Zayn catches Louis’ eye, but keeps a straight face. He doesn’t say a word until they’re parked on the street.

“Let’s go,” he pulls out the key. “They wanted to see you, too.”

Zayn texts on his phone as they move towards the front entrance, the door buzzing to let them in almost as soon as they’re inside. They head towards the apartment, and Zayn knocks when they arrive. The door swings open, and inside is quite literally just about everyone Louis cares about, the only exception being his family. 

It’s days like these he misses them most; he moved out at eighteen because he wanted to get serious about training, which meant putting in the time. He couldn’t do that if he was always expected to babysit his younger siblings. There had always been a lot of responsibility on him, and the day he decided it was too much, he got out and hasn’t been back since. 

He hasn’t spoken to his parents, who took it very personally. But every now and then he’ll get an update text from his oldest sister, Lottie, given the rest of them were too young to understand why Louis would ever leave them. Lottie was young, but old enough to understand his decision when he explained it to her. His youngest twin siblings have never even met him. It was a big slap in the face when his parents packed them all up and moved across the country, further preventing Louis from seeing any of them. 

But Louis thinks he’s done fine on his own. James has always been nothing but supportive, and the people he surrounds himself with on a daily basis are his family, too.

“Surprise!” 

Thoughts of his family disintegrate in Louis’ mind. 

“Guys,” he says. “What is this? It’s Christmas Eve,” he laughs. “Go be with your families.”

“That’s what we’re doing right now,” Liam smiles. “Happy birthday, Louis.”

As Louis looks around at everyone in the room, he realizes how grateful he is. There may not be a lot of people, but they’re good ones. Louis’ birthday falling on the day that it does has often meant it was forgotten or overlooked, but everyone in Harry and Niall’s apartment have come together to celebrate, anyways. 

“Some of us are heading out later tonight to go see our families,” Lauren adds on to what Liam had said. “But we couldn’t leave before this.” 

Louis steps inside and thanks them all. When he slips away for a moment to check his phone, Harry approaches.

“Hey,” he says, making Louis look up from his phone. Harry gestures for Louis to follow him into his bedroom.

He walks inside and heads straight for his bed, then squats down and pulls out a box, wrapped and tied together neatly with a silk ribbon.

“I got you something,” he hands it over to Louis.

“Oh,” Louis is surprised. “You shouldn’t have. I mean,” he shakes his head out of guilt. “I didn’t get you anything for Christmas.”

“Good thing it isn’t a Christmas gift, then.”

As Louis takes the box, he notices Harry’s hands.

“I like your nails,” he says sincerely.

“Really?” Harry shies away, looking down at the ground.

“Yeah,” Louis reassures him. “But why are they chipped like that?”

“Oh,” Harry almost laughs. “Nick said-”

“Harry,” Louis cuts him off, and waits for Harry to look up at him. “Don’t listen to him.”

Louis suddenly wants to reach up and touch his face, wrap his fingers around Harry’s curls. His hand moves to do it, but Louis’ brain stops him before he can actually go through with it. 

Harry just nods, and then walks out, leaving Louis to stand alone in his bedroom. Louis decides he might as well open the gift now.

_What could Harry have possibly thought to get for me?_

He almost gasps when he sees the box and realizes what it is. He sets it down on the bed and lifts the top off, revealing a note sitting right at the top.

_I told you to get some new ones. Since you were too stubborn, I thought I would do it myself._

_Harry_

Louis picks up the pair of clean, fresh trainers and admires them in his hands. He’s surprised by the gesture and impressed by the thoughtfulness of it all. He tucks the shoes back into the box and sets it down on the ground near the door. He walks out and is immediately met with loud insisting that he come blow out the candles on his cake.

Everyone sings happy birthday while Louis sits in front of the cake, face illuminated by the dim candles. When they finish the song, there’s a chorus of people telling him to make a wish.

“Better wish for something good,” Harry whispers beside Louis. 

Louis looks up at him.

_I wish for you-_

He doesn’t finish the thought before he turns to blow out the candles. He supposes he’s vaguely wishing for Harry this year in all its ambiguity. 

They pull out the alcohol and make sure Louis gets the first shot. A few of them apologize for not being able to drink at all, given they’ll be driving home soon. Louis simply thanks them instead, appreciative they’re here in the first place. 

Before anybody can leave, there’s a knock on the door. 

“That must be Nick,” Niall jumps on from where he was sitting with some of the girls on the couch.

“What?” Harry asks, and everybody else goes silent. 

It seems Niall never got the memo that Louis and Nick are not friends, and Nick punched Louis in the face just days ago. Nobody gets a chance to tell him, though, because he’s already opening the door. Harry follows him and Nick only takes a few steps inside before being stopped.

“Hey,” Harry says, one hand on his chest. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Niall invited me,” Nick smiles. “Figured me and Louis are fine now, anyways.”

He looks over at Louis, who just nods in acknowledgement in his direction. 

_I knew from the start I didn’t like you._

“Well, I’m uninviting you,” Harry says, tone a little sharper. “You need to go.”

“Harry-”

“I want you to go.”

Louis is impressed. If Harry can jump to his defense like this, why can’t he do the same for himself?

“Hold on,” Louis says, taking a step towards them in the living room. “You can stay,” he twirls his hand around. “If you promise to stop shit talking Harry.”

Nick looks between the two of them. He looks like he’s about to deny it, but then nods anyways.

“Good,” Louis smiles, pleased with himself, hoping Nick will hold up his end of this deal. “Then let’s get some drinks.” 

As time goes on, Louis has more to drink and people start to leave. Mackenzie and Natalie say goodnight first, followed by Niall. 

Louis stands at the kitchen island, just observing everyone else who’s left as he nurses the drink in his hand. He looks over at Harry and Zayn on the couch when Nick comes over and stands next to him.

“So,” Louis says casually. “Harry and Zayn are pretty close, huh?”

Louis doesn’t know what he’s doing. 

“That’s fine,” Nick answers, watching them, too. “They’re teammates. Friends.”

“You know,” Louis chuckles before taking another sip of his drink. “I had my suspicions about them even before you came along.”

Nick turns his head then to look at Louis, and Louis matches his movement. 

“I don’t think it’s Zayn I’m worried about.”

Louis draws in his eyebrows, evidently confused. 

“You know, I was wondering why Harry didn’t introduce me to you himself that first day. When I asked, he told me it’s because you don’t get along. But I don’t think that’s the whole story.” 

Louis laughs loudly, drawing Harry and Zayn’s attention to the two of them.

“Oh yeah, and what is then?” 

Nick looks like he has an answer ready, but after glancing over at Harry, he simply says, “I don’t know yet.”

Harry and Zayn are walking over towards them, and Harry guides Nick away as Zayn wraps an arm around Louis’ shoulder. 

“How’s it going?” Zayn smiles at him. 

“Great,” Louis smiles back. “Thank you for this, Z.”

Zayn pulls Louis into a tight hug. Over his shoulder, Harry catches Louis’ eye and gives him a small smile as he ushers Nick out the door. 

“I’ve got to head out now,” Zayn tells him as he pulls away. “But I’ll see you soon,” he keeps a hold on Louis’ shoulders. “I love you, yeah?”

Louis pulls Zayn in for one more quick hug before he heads out.

He doesn’t even realize that by the time Liam leaves, it’s almost midnight, and him and Harry are the only ones there.

“You’re not heading out to see family?”

“No,” Harry shakes his head. “Haven’t spoken to them in a while.”

Louis didn’t know that, but he doesn’t push it further. 

“Can I crash on your couch?” He asks suddenly, before he can change his own mind.

“Yeah,” Harry nods. “I mean, you can’t drive, so.”

Louis goes to lie down on the couch, and Harry walks into his room, then back out with a bag in his hands.

“Here,” he tosses the bag at Louis. “Zayn packed it for you, just in case,” he pauses. “He’s a good friend.”

“Yeah,” Louis smiles, opening the bag and pulling out a pair of sweatpants as he starts to strip down right there in the living room. 

“You can use the bathroom first,” Harry says robotically before disappearing into his bedroom.

So Louis gets up and walks into the bathroom, washes his face and brushes his teeth. He takes his bag back out into the living room and sets it down on one end of the couch before laying down. He puts a hand on his bare chest, suddenly cold. Harry walks back out of his room then with a blanket in his hands. He walks over to the couch and tosses it over Louis.

“Thank you,” Louis whispers. “For the blanket and the new shoes.”

Harry looks down at him.

“Happy birthday, Louis.”

Louis looks up at the microwave in the kitchen, watches as the minute changes from 11:59 to 12:00.

“Merry Christmas, Harry.”

**

When Louis wakes up the next day, he checks the time on the microwave and sees it’s not even eight o’clock. He contemplates closing his eyes and going back to sleep, but then he remembers that he’s on Harry’s couch and it’s Christmas day. He tosses the blanket off of him and gets himself up, grabbing his bag and heading into the bathroom. As he’s walking out, he notices Harry’s bedroom door is slightly open, and remembers the pair of shoes he was gifted. 

_I still can’t believe he would do that._

Carefully, Louis pushes Harry’s door open just enough to slip inside and grab the box.

Harry groans from his bed, rolling over.

“Louis?” He pushes himself onto his elbows. “Are you leaving?”

_What, am I supposed to stay?_

“Uh, yeah.”

“Okay,” Harry lays back down. “You can let yourself out.”

Louis nods and turns back around to leave.

“But hey,” Harry stops him. “You should come back later. If you want,” he adds. “I’ll cook dinner.”

“Um,” Louis looks at Harry, confident he must be fully out of it to be making such an offer. “Yeah, okay.”

_What?_

“Good,” Harry pulls the blankets up to his chin. “I’ll see you later.”

Louis goes home and immediately showers, trying to wash away any feeling towards Harry that isn’t hatred. He doesn’t know what’s wrong with him lately; between wanting to punch Nick for talking shit about Harry, though he would normally be doing that himself, to getting a barely resistible urge to run his fingers through Harry’s hair. 

Louis doesn’t know when their relationship changed to something just a little bit softer, but he won’t be the one to say anything. 

All day, Louis wonders if Harry even remembers inviting him over. He contemplates texting him, or even just showing up. The more he thinks, the less he knows what to do. 

And then his phone buzzes.

_Are you still coming? Dinner is almost ready and I made enough for the both of us._

_5:57 pm_

Louis guesses that’s his answer.

He thanks himself silently for having dressed up a little nicer, _just in case._ He grabs his keys from the counter and heads out, typing out a text to Harry as he walks. 

_See you soon._

_5:59 pm_

After Harry buzzes him in, Louis heads to his door, where he finds Harry waiting for him. From where he’s still walking down the hallway, Louis is overwhelmed by how good Harry’s food smells. His face must show it, because Harry laughs gently as Louis gets closer.

“I’m glad you came,” Harry says as Louis steps inside.

“Thanks for the invite.”

Though Louis hasn’t seen his own family in years, he’s never been alone on Christmas, always going home to Zayn’s family for the holidays, who have always treated Louis like family, too. But this year, when Zayn told Louis he was bringing Gigi too, Louis told him that he would stay behind, so the family could get to know her better. Though they haven’t been dating long, they’ve been friends for years, so they’re moving quickly through the stages of a relationship. Zayn declined and refused and insisted that Louis was still more than welcome, but Louis finally convinced him that he could handle being alone for a little while.

He didn’t know Harry would be alone, too. 

Harry moves back into the kitchen and starts dishing up their meals. It all looks very extravagant considering it’s just for the two of them. 

“Wine?”

“I probably shouldn’t,” Louis laughs. “I drove, so.”

Harry just shrugs. “I’ve got a couch,” he pauses, then adds, to match Louis verbatim, “so.”

Louis doesn’t even say anything else, and Harry cracks open the bottle of wine, pouring each of them a glass.

“I feel like all we do together is drink,” Louis laughs as they finally sit down.

Harry cocks an eyebrow. “What else do you want to do?” 

“No,” Louis spits out, flustered. “I mean,” he keeps trying. “It’s just that-”

“Lou,” Harry laughs. “Relax.”

_Lou?_

“Lou?” He can feel the heat rising to his cheeks.

“Uh-”

They’re interrupted by a knock on the door. Their heads whip over to look, before glancing back at each other. Harry gets up and slowly walks over, looks through the peephole, then opens it. 

“Hey,” he says, blocking Louis’ view of who’s standing there. “I thought you were with your family. What are you doing here?” 

“Oh,” Louis recognizes the voice as Nick’s. “I just thought I would stop by and say Merry Christmas while I was out to pick up dessert. Speaking of,” Nick steps towards Harry, trying to move past him. “Something smells good.”

Harry tries to keep him out, he really does. Louis can’t think about it too hard because Nick is staring right at him. 

“Of fucking course he’s here,” Nick grumbles.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harry snaps right back. “He was alone for Christmas and so was I. It’s not a big deal.”

_It’s not a big deal._

The words fly around in Louis’ mind longer than they should, probably. They move down to his mouth, swirling around his tongue, trying them on for himself. 

“You know,” Nick says, and Louis isn’t sure how long he had zoned out for; doesn’t know how much he missed. “Last night, Louis said-”

“I don’t care,” Harry shakes his head, clearly not wanting to put up with it. 

_Why do you tolerate this?_

_And why did I say anything to Nick last night?_

Louis knows what Nick is talking about. And he definitely regrets it. He probably shouldn’t have talked to Harry’s boyfriend about Harry. Harry’s boyfriend, Nick, who Harry tried to make leave when he showed up. Louis remembers how assertive Harry was, he remembers Harry being on his side, just like he seems to be right now.

How could it be possible that the person Harry is dating is also the common enemy bringing them together?

“Yeah,” Nick says, and once again, Louis thinks he definitely missed something. “I’ll come back tomorrow. When he isn’t here, right?”

It’s not so much a question as it is a statement. Harry simply nods and moves him towards the door, closing it behind him. He turns around, back pressed to the door, eyes closed. When he opens them again, Louis just raises his glass of wine towards him and takes a long sip. 

Harry returns to the table and falls into his chair across from Louis, looking defeated. 

Louis doesn’t know what to say, so he doesn’t say anything at all. And so they eat in silence. Louis thinks it’s still quite a nice way to spend Christmas. 

After dinner, they sit on the couch and Harry flips through the channels of all the cheesy holiday movies. He finally settles on one and puts the remote down. At the first commercial break, Louis’ curiosity gets the best of him.

“Can I ask why you’re not with your family?”

He watches Harry’s face change. 

“Not yet.”

So Louis doesn’t. He stops studying Harry’s facial features and turns his attention back to the TV, instead.

Eventually, Louis falls asleep right where he is, with Harry sitting on the opposite end of the couch as they casually watch whatever movies are playing. When he wakes up the next morning, there’s a blanket over his body and Harry is nowhere to be seen. Louis notices the note next to him, though.

_Thanks for coming over. It was nice to have some company. Sorry about Nick, but you should probably let yourself out before he comes back._

_Harry_

Louis smiles and pockets the note before standing up and walking straight to the door, the memories of the last two nights on Harry's couch fresh in his mind. 

**

Two days later, Harry texts Louis to ask if he wants to train. Louis agrees and they meet at the dojang. Right away, Louis can tell Harry is upset about something, simply wanting to blow off steam. 

Louis doesn’t ask, and Harry doesn’t tell. 

“Alright, let’s spar,” Harry says after they spend a good amount of time warming up and kicking around.

“What?” 

“Come on,” Harry pushes. “We haven’t sparred in a while.”

A voice in Louis’ head tells him it’s not a good idea, but his competitive nature, along with Harry’s pleading face overrule that voice, and he can’t remember all the reasons why he shouldn’t. 

So he agrees.

Within minutes, he remembers those reasons he had previously forgotten.

_Why risk injury?_

His own voice tells him, recalling his logic with his own students and at the last local tournament as he lies on the ground in searing pain.

“Louis,” Harry crouches beside him. “What is it?” 

“My ankle,” Louis breathes out. 

“Do you think it’s broken?” 

Louis flexes his foot, wincing at the feeling. “No, but it really fucking hurts.”

Harry helps him up then, looking guilty. As he helps Louis to the bench to sit down, Louis tells him it’s not his fault, and hopes Harry will believe him. 

Harry takes Louis home, stopping at a drug store on the way there. He tells Louis to wait in the car, and comes back out with a tensor bandage and some crutches. When he gets to Louis' apartment, he helps Louis into the backseat and wraps his ankle gently. Then, he opens the box with the crutches, adjusts them to Louis’ height, and hands them over. He follows Louis into his apartment to make sure he makes it alright, then leaves with a small wave. 

Louis sits on his couch, thinking about the poor decision that led him to this place. Why does he suddenly care so much about pleasing Harry, anyways? Why didn’t Louis just tell him to piss off because, oh god, provincials are next month. Louis can feel hot tears threatening to spill as he realizes the potential of not competing. Losing his spot at provincials, that could have turned into a spot at nationals, at worlds. He also knows how far an injury can set you back physically, so even if his ankle is good enough to compete next month, he’s going to have a lot of work to do to make sure he’s still ready for it. 

He decides to stop thinking about it and just go to sleep.

**

Zayn calls him the day he gets back.

“Hey, Louis,” he says into the phone. “How’s your ankle?”

Louis had texted him the day of the incident, and Zayn was immediately sympathetic. 

“Fine,” Louis sighs, rolling it around on the couch.

“Can I do anything?”

“I think I’m okay,” Louis says, though emotionally, he’s still not quite there. 

“Alright,” Zayn says warily. “Well, me and Liam are going to throw a party tomorrow night. And you should come. If you can’t drive yet-”

“I can drive,” Louis interrupts, not wanting to feel like such a burden.

“Okay,” Zayn agrees. “Then yeah, you should come.”

“I’ll think about it,” Louis sighs. 

He wants to, really. But he just isn’t sure how he would feel in that situation. 

“Hopefully I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Louis hangs up the phone and goes back to sleep. It feels like that’s all he’s done the last couple of days.

**

The morning of the thirty-first, Louis sleeps in. He gets up and walks around a little bit. This isn’t his first ever injury, so he knows what he’s doing. That doesn’t mean it sucks any less, but he’s taking care of it well and it’s already feeling better. But Louis also knows that just because it _feels_ better, doesn’t mean it _is_ better. 

He spends the day lounging around, stretching and working out in the small space the best he can. He takes a nap, browses the web. Louis loves the lack of responsibilities in the time surrounding the holidays. 

He doesn’t notice it’s already nearing nine o’clock until his phone rings, with Zayn’s name lighting up the screen.

“Louis,” Zayn shouts into the phone, causing Louis to pull his own away from his ear. “Are you coming?”

Louis brings his cell back towards his face. With the other hand, he continues scrolling through Netflix on his TV remote.

“I don’t know, Z. I’m not really in the mood.”

“Louis!” Liam shouts on the other end, before Louis hears the ensuing struggle of Zayn getting his phone back. 

“Louis,” Zayn echoes Liam. “Everyone’s having fun. It’s New Years Eve. Live a little. Just for tonight.”

For a brief second, Louis thinks maybe Zayn’s right. What is he doing here? Alone in his apartment, ready to call it a night at nine o’clock, passing out on his couch while the television plays.

“I’ll think about it,” he answers, knowing he likely won’t change his mind, despite the quick second of doubt. 

“I know you’re still upset about your ankle,” Zayn drawls on the phone. “But everyone wants you here.”

“I said I would think about it,” Louis laughs as he repeats himself.

“Alright,” Zayn sighs, knowing Louis well enough to know that means the answer is more than likely going to be no. “Hope to see you here soon.”

The call ends and Louis tosses his phone beside him, finally picking something to watch. But the second it starts playing, he knows he isn’t paying attention. He feels pathetic. Sitting here pitying himself, instead of spending the night partying with his friends. 

He suddenly finds a new burst of motivation. He jumps off the couch the best he can and goes into his room to get changed. Black turtleneck, black jeans, plaid jacket. He thinks about bringing the crutches, but decides against it. He can walk now, anyways, so they would just get in the way. Within minutes, he’s grabbing his keys and heading out the door. 

**

Louis parks on the street outside Zayn’s apartment. He takes a moment to collect himself before stepping out of the car. As he fumbles with his keys to lock his car, he pulls out his phone to call Zayn and let him know he changed his mind and he’s standing outside. Zayn sounds more than excited, and by the time Louis gets to the front entrance, the door is buzzing to let him in. 

There’s an empty silence in the lobby. Nobody is around. The floor is quiet. Yet, Louis is sure that there’s many apartments above hosting parties or get-togethers of many varieties, including the one he is heading to. Louis pushes the button to wait for the elevator. He watches as one of the two rise from the parkade to the ground floor. It dings and the doors open.

Harry.

Louis doesn’t say anything. Harry doesn’t say anything, either. 

He hasn’t seen him since he hurt himself, and Harry hasn’t tried contacting him, either. Not that Louis expected him to, but the sudden shifts in their dynamic are becoming increasingly difficult for Louis to understand. 

They stand in silence as they head up to the fourth floor, clearly both heading to the same place. The elevator comes to a stop and the doors open.

Harry clears his throat. “Go ahead,” he offers. 

“Thanks,” Louis steps out, well aware that Harry was following right after him. 

Through the hallway, Louis can hear voices carrying, even over the music, all coming from Zayn’s apartment. 

Louis stumbles briefly and winces in pain, a sharp reminder that though he can walk, he’s not ready to go back to training yet. He recovers, but feels a hand squeezing his arm.

“You okay?” Harry asks almost robotically.

“Yeah,” Louis shakes his arm free without looking over. “Fine.”

They get to the door and Harry knocks. It swings open after a moment to reveal Liam. 

“Harry!” He yells, then opens the door further. “And Louis!” 

“Niall’s coming later, after work,” Harry offers. 

“Cool,” Liam answers. “Well, come in, guys,” he gestures inside. “Glad you’re here.” He says, looking directly at Louis.

Louis smiles and nods, then steps inside and slips off his shoes. The place is familiar, but the feeling is not. The crowd is unusual and the incessant buzz, something to get used to. He realizes quickly that Harry is no longer with him, and when he turns to look, he sees him already chatting up a group of people in the corner of the room. 

Louis continues to look around, eyes scanning for someone, _anyone_ , he could talk to. 

“Louis!” 

The problem solves itself.

“Hey, Bree!”

“You here with someone?” She asks, raising her eyebrows and looking over Louis’ shoulder. 

Louis turns around to follow her gaze, and lands right back on Harry.

“Absolutely not,” he defends, shaking his head vigorously at her. “Come on, now,” he laughs. 

“Okay,” she puts one hand up, then sips from her drink in the other. “Mm,” she pulls it away from her mouth. “Let’s get you a drink.”

So Louis has a couple shots. He laughs loudly with the people around him. As he finishes the last one, he notices Zayn sitting out on the balcony. Louis wanders over and slips outside, then crawls right up into Zayn’s lap.

Zayn lifts his head to look down at him. “Having fun, Louis?”

“Mmhmm,” Louis turns his head to readjust, only to then see Harry looking down at him from where he’s leaning against the railing. 

Harry doesn’t say anything, though. Just keeps his eyes trained on Louis as he makes himself comfortable on Zayn. 

“I’m glad you came,” Zayn says.

“Me too,” Louis whispers back, and as he stares up at Harry, he adds, louder, “thanks for the invite.” 

Harry goes inside. 

Louis laughs as the glass door slides shut once more to keep the cold winter air out. 

“What is it with you two…” Zayn mumbles.

Louis just keeps laughing, and he doesn’t even know why.

**

Back inside, groups have formed in the apartment. The girls from the competition team have taken over the living room couch. There’s some sort of drinking game going on at the kitchen island. There’s a short line outside the bathroom, suggesting that _something_ is going on in there, too.

Louis feels lost. He doesn’t know where to go, who to blend in with. Luckily, Zayn follows him inside and guides him towards where Liam is standing. Not so luckily, Liam is standing with Niall, and therefore, Harry as well. 

“Welcome,” Niall greets them. “We were just about to decide on a drinking game.”

Harry looks over at Louis. “I think we should play ‘never have I ever’.” 

Everyone nods in agreement, as if this is a _good_ idea, and Louis is bewildered. But he’s also outnumbered, so he supposes he’ll suck it up and play along. 

Everything starts out fine, the way it always does. The statements are vague, designed for everyone to drink at some point. 

And then it turns into a battle ground. Statements from Harry and Louis getting more and more specific, designed only to make the other drink, bring their secrets to light in front of their friends. 

“Never have I ever,” Louis drags out, acting innocent. “Kicked my boyfriend out on Christmas.”

Harry stares him down before drinking, and everyone else looks at him in shock, wondering what the hell happened while they were away for a few days. 

“You’re insane,” he growls. “Okay, okay,” he suddenly picks up, clearly having thought of something to make Louis drink. “Never have I ever hidden a job because I was embarrassed about it.”

“Are you serious?” Louis snaps as Harry shoots him a fake smile.

“Drink up.” 

So Louis drinks. 

Everyone else is simply watching Louis and Harry with nervous eyes, not knowing what’s going to be said next; when the line is going to be crossed. But where was the line, anyways? 

“Never have I ever l dated someone just to show someone else that I could,” Louis pauses. “To get a reaction.” 

“That’s how you’re gonna play, Louis?” Harry doesn’t even drink. “Well, never have I ever been the direct cause of someone’s break-up because I just couldn’t put my ego aside and stay out of it.”

“Are you fucking serious? That’s what you think happened?” Louis scoffs and steps up to Harry, putting his drink down on the coffee table beside him. 

Everyone else backs off, ready to jump between them if things get too heated. 

“That’s exactly what I think, Louis. I think you just hate me so much that you couldn’t stand to see me happy in any way, so you scared him off. Intentionally. He told me that you were trying to convince him I was cheating.”

“You’re delusional,” Louis laughs. “You make everything out to be my fault! As if you’re so perfect!” 

Louis can feel his voice raising and his cheeks heating up, but he doesn’t care. 

“And you know what, Harry? Don’t even lie to yourself. You didn’t really like him, anyways. You were projecting and you know it. You didn’t care about him, and he didn’t care about you. So what did you really lose?” 

Harry goes silent, doesn’t have anything to say in response. But he keeps his eyes locked on Louis’. 

“Nothing! That’s the answer you’re looking for! You lost nothing, Harry! Because all you care about is yourself! You will never be able to truly care about anything or anyone else.”

At this point, Harry has given up. Zayn, Liam and Niall are still watching, but none of them is willing to interfere. Everyone else in the room goes silent to listen to their fight. But the fight has mostly become Louis screaming at Harry. Louis, continuing to scream just because Harry is standing there and taking it because as always, Harry won’t defend himself. So Louis screams and blames Harry and screams some more until he finally stops. When he does, and the room is silent, Harry just shakes his head slightly, squints away the angry tears forming in the corners of his eyes, and walks away towards the bathroom.

That leaves all eyes on Louis. He looks around, seeing the disappointment on people’s faces. He may not have been totally and completely wrong in what he was saying, but he realizes he was wrong in how he went about it. And okay, maybe some of the things he said were wrong, too. He sighs, then heads towards the bathroom where Harry has shut himself in.

As he walks away, he can hear everyone resuming their conversations. The entertainment is over, so it’s back to their regularly scheduled programming. It’s as if nothing even happened.

Louis tries the door and sighs. “Harry,” he half whispers. “Open the door.”

He can’t hear anything on the other side, so he isn’t sure what Harry’s doing. He’s genuinely surprised when the door opens. 

Louis steps inside and closes the door behind him. 

“Hey,” he says quietly. 

Harry nods his head in acknowledgement before sitting on the tile floor, leaning back against the bathtub. Louis sits too, sliding down against the door. 

They sit in silence for a moment.

“I’m sorry,” they both say at once. 

“What?” Louis laughs. “I’m the one who just blew up at you in front of everyone,” he searches Harry’s face. “Why are you sorry?”

“I drew you into it.”

“Why?”

“Because sometimes I don’t feel real,” Harry whispers in a quiet admission, almost like he doesn’t want Louis to know he’s won somehow. “And then you look at me the way you do. With that fire in your eyes.” 

Harry finally looks up and meets Louis’ eyes.

“And I can finally feel something again. It reminds me that I’m real.”

Louis opens his mouth to say something, then closes it again.

“I know it’s dumb,” Harry continues. “I’m sorry.”

Louis tilts his head back against the door, looking up at the ceiling. He’s had too many shots to process what Harry just finished saying. So he doesn’t. Not really.

“Where’s Nick?” He asks instead.

“Not here,” Harry shrugs. 

“Why not?” He already knows the answer. 

“Does it matter?”

“You weren’t happy,” Louis says quietly.

“No,” Harry matches Louis’ volume. “I wasn’t.” 

On the other side of the door, the countdown starts. 

“Ten, nine, eight…” The voices are faint, but still heard in the bathroom. 

Neither of them make any attempt to stand up and go join everyone on the other side of the door. 

“Five, four, three…”

Louis glances down and notices something specific that sends his mind into a spiral: Harry’s nails are painted but not chipped. And for just a moment, Louis sees Harry. 

He puts one hand on the floor for balance as he leans forward, resting the other on Harry’s cheek. Before Louis can think too hard about it, he closes the gap and presses their lips together. 

“Happy New Year!” 

Everyone on the other side of the door is yelling and celebrating and making noise. But on the cold floor of the bathroom, there’s just lips against lips and pure silence and nobody else but Harry and Louis. 

Harry’s hands slowly reach out for Louis’ arms. Louis knows they’re moving slowly because everything inside Harry is telling him to stop; he’s fighting against himself, probably the same way Louis is. He doesn’t want this. Or maybe he does, but he doesn’t want to want it. There’s a brief moment where Louis thinks Harry finally gives in with the gentle brush of fingertips.

But then Harry pulls back and inhales sharply, shattering the moment that felt much longer than the few seconds it actually lasted.

“I’m-” Louis scrambles to his feet. “That was stupid,” he already has a hand on the doorknob, ready to leave this situation he created as quickly as possible. “I’m sorry.”

As he darts out, he hears a silent “happy new year, Louis” echoing behind him, the sound following him all the way to Zayn’s bedroom. 

It haunts him until he falls asleep. And even after he falls asleep, it haunts him then, too. 


	5. january

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> provincials!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so this chapter has some minor weight talk once they're at provincials, moreso than just the divisions. i really wanted to portray this scene as accurately as possible without making it feel too heavy, so there's some antics to offset it.

On January first, nothing has changed. 

Louis reminds himself he still hates Harry. And that Harry still hates him. 

Still, he can’t help but ask when he wakes up: “Is Harry gone?”

Zayn and Liam share a look between them. 

“Yeah, he left without saying much pretty quickly last night. Just after midnight. Which wasn’t long after…” Zayn trails off.

Liam steps in, piecing things together. “After you blew up at him in the living room.”

“Right,” Zayn narrows his eyes at Louis. “And then you followed him into the bathroom.”

Liam’s eyes widen. “And we haven’t seen you since. And we know he left just after midnight.”

“Louis,” Zayn says sternly. “What happened?”

Louis sighs and puts his face in his hands. He can feel their eyes on him, waiting for an answer. Truthfully, he’s still trying to piece it together, himself. How can he explain what he doesn’t understand? 

_He told me a story._

“Nothing.” Firm. 

_And I believed it._

“Really, nothing.” Firmer.

_So I kissed him._

Liam seems to buy it.

“Okay,” Zayn drawls, unsure. “Well, we have training tonight. And you may be my best friend, but if he doesn’t show up, I’m bringing in the FBI.” 

While there seems to be some meaning behind Zayn’s words, they manage to lighten the room. The three of them laugh together until Louis forgets all about him and Harry in the bathroom the night before. 

**

Harry is already there when Louis shows up. Thankfully, he’s not the only one. As Louis slips in the front door, Harry is immersed in conversation with James. A wave of panic washes over Louis, unable to stop from wondering what they’re talking about. There’s no reason for Harry to tell James about their kiss, but it’s still a possibility that nearly stops Louis in his tracks. 

Once he’s gotten over his initial freeze in place, he puts his head down and walks straight to the locker room.

“Louis,” James calls.

Louis stops and turns to see their eyes locked on him.

“Are you feeling okay?” 

“Yeah,” Louis laughs it off. “Promise I’m not even hungover.”

James nods and Louis continues on, feeling Harry’s eyes burning on him the whole way.

Or maybe it’s all in his head; maybe Harry _isn’t_ looking at him. He’d prefer it that way, anyways. 

Louis gets dressed, but waits in the locker room until Zayn arrives. He doesn’t want to risk stepping out and being forced into small talk with James and Harry. He doesn’t remember if this is a mixed session or if it’s just the boys tonight. Maybe that’s why James is there already; because he finished training with the girls before the boys arrived. Louis realizes he’s pacing when the locker room door finally swings open. 

“Zayn,” he says immediately, only turning around after it leaves his mouth. “Oh.”

“Hey,” Harry says casually, as if they’ve ever had a casual conversation. “Not Zayn,” he half smiles.

“No,” Louis purses his lips together, rocking on his heels. “Not Zayn.”

And then when Harry doesn’t say anything, “What do you want, Harry?”

Harry’s eyes dart around the room quickly, then land back on Louis. “Just forgot my water bottle,” he shakes his head. “Am I not allowed in here?”

_Finally,_ there’s a tone more familiar to Louis: slight annoyance laced with a bit of spite. He doesn’t know if he could handle the softer interactions that’d been occurring the last month with how it ended.

Louis actually lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

“No, yeah,” he stammers, before moving to pass Harry and walk out.

This is a very rare occurrence in which Louis finds himself thankful he can’t train with everyone. He’s perfectly content being able to avoid Harry, sitting on the sidelines the entire time. They run, Louis does sit-ups. They do jump training, Louis does push-ups. His endurance will be taking a hit, but he’s making sure to do everything in his power that nothing else does.

When they finish their workout, James waves Louis over to stretch with Zayn and Harry. Louis watches as the two of them stop their low whispering despite the loud music and look over in Louis’ direction. He suddenly feels uncomfortable, but knows it would look bad if he just said no. So he gets up and walks into the dojang before sitting near them.

“Hey,” he extends his legs. 

“Hey,” they both reply. 

And then they all go silent. Louis doesn’t know what’s going on, but he doesn’t like it. James watches them curiously, and eventually calls Harry into his box office. Harry gets up and walks over, closing the door behind him. 

“So…”

“So,” Zayn says with less hesitance. “Were you not going to tell me you kissed Harry last night?”

Louis groans and covers his face with his hands.

“Can we not talk about this here?”

“Well, I think you would like to talk about it,” Zayn says bluntly. “But I don’t think it should be with me.”

Louis looks at him in disbelief. “That’s it? Don’t you think maybe I want to talk to you first?”

“Clearly not,” Zayn says with a shrug.

Louis knows he isn’t angry, not really. 

“Zayn,” Louis looks at him seriously. “I wasn’t ready this morning. But now that you know, I feel better. And I want to talk to you about it.”

Zayn just looks at him for a moment. At the same time, the box office door opens and Harry steps out, an unreadable expression on his face.

“Alright,” Zayn nods. “Later.”

Harry sits down with them without a word. They go back to stretching in silence. 

After the session, which consists mostly of Zayn and Harry doing sparring drills and kicking combinations together, James calls Louis into the office. Zayn tells Louis to come over to his place when he’s done and Louis agrees. 

“Alright,” James says as Louis closes the door. “So, I know what’s going on with Harry, but what’s going on with you?”

_Huh?_

“What-” Louis shakes his head. “What’s going on with Harry?”

He hopes James answers.

“Well, I’m sure you already know that things with Nick ended recently.”

_It took long enough._

Yeah, Louis did know that. 

“So that’s why he’s been acting a little strange, but I want to know why you are, too.”

Louis barely bites back a laugh. That’s what Harry told James about why the air in the room is so thick? Louis supposes he’s thankful he wasn’t honest, but he also can’t believe he played it off as being heartbroken and distraught. 

“I guess,” Louis pauses. “I’m still just frustrated about my ankle.”

“Yeah,” James agrees, believing every word. “Are you going to be ready to fight in provincials?”

Louis nods emphatically. “Of course,” he hopes James didn’t think otherwise. “I’ll be fine. They’re close to the end of the month, I’ll spend the next week and a half strengthening my ankle and then be back to training until the day of provincials.” 

James looks skeptical.

“James,” his voice almost shakes. “You have to trust me,” then, he adds, “please, don’t give up my spot.”

“Alright,” he agrees. “But I will pull you if I think you’re playing high risk and low reward.”

“Got it,” Louis answers quickly, before reiterating, “I promise it will be fine.”

Louis is about to leave, but James proceeds to ask him how he would feel about taking on the junior competition team. Truthfully, there’s not much Louis wants more. It would mean working another two days in the week, and a bigger pay cheque. Louis realizes that if he works Monday to Thursday, he can still pick up driving shifts on Fridays, and keep his weekends free, unless otherwise occupied by competitions. 

In the end, Louis walks out feeling good. When he gets into the locker room, both Harry and Zayn are gone, so Louis takes a long shower before getting dressed and driving over to Zayn’s. 

Inside, the two of them dance around the topic awkwardly until Zayn cuts right to it and asks Louis point blank about the night before. 

“So, you and Harry kissed last night. How did it happen?”

Louis exhales deeply. “How much did he tell you?”

“Not much. I really only know that it happened at all.”

“Okay,” Louis turns to face him on the couch. “Well, I followed him into the bathroom, right? And we sat down on the floor.”

Louis recalls everything so vividly. Part of him wishes he couldn’t, while the other part screams _please never forget_. 

“And he apologized for drawing me into our fight…”

Zayn just listens as Louis speaks. He doesn’t interrupt or ask any questions. He waits until Louis is finished talking before saying anything at all. 

“And then,” Louis trails off. “I don’t know. It just kind of happened.”

But Louis knows that isn’t completely true. 

“He admitted he wasn’t happy with Nick, and then the countdown started. And I just remember looking down and,” Louis shakes his head. “It sounds so dumb, but I noticed his painted nails. On the night of my birthday I noticed them but they were chipped, like he was trying to scratch it off. And when I asked, he said it was because of something Nick said. So when I saw them last night and they weren’t chipped…”

Louis closes his eyes, reminiscing the feeling he had not even twenty four hours ago, sitting on Zayn’s bathroom floor.

“I just leaned in and kissed him at midnight.”

Zayn looks surprised, but still, waits for Louis to finish. 

“And I don't,” Louis continues. “I don’t know. For a second, it kind of seemed like it didn’t mean anything. It was just us kissing at midnight because we were the only two in the room. But as soon as he pulled away,” Louis pauses. “It all came rushing in like. What are we doing? His face was a mix of surprise and confusion so I got up and ran. I crashed in your bed and then I guess he left right after.” 

Zayn waits a beat, making sure Louis doesn’t have more to say. When Louis stays quiet, he finally responds.

“Okay, let me get this right,” he shakes his head. “You kissed him and he kissed you back. And then he’s the one who pulled away, yet you’re the one who ran out?”

When Zayn says it out loud, Louis thinks maybe it does sound kind of dumb.

“Louis, you didn’t even give him a chance to react!” 

“What was I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know,” Zayn’s voice lowers again. “I can’t tell you what to do. I can’t tell you how he feels and I can’t tell you how you feel. You guys should probably talk about it, though.”

**

They don’t. 

**

The more time that passes, the more Louis thinks about it. Has Harry told Niall? Does Liam know? The group chat has been eerily quiet. Has Louis lost this group he’s grown quite fond of? All because of a stupid kiss that never should have happened? He can’t stop himself from reminiscing about all the time they’ve spent together over the course of the last few months. 

And then, casually, out of nowhere, a group text from Liam, makes Louis feel like he can breathe again.

_So… You guys coming out to the bar tonight or what?_

_9:37 pm_

Very quickly, a response from Harry:

_I think we should_

_9:37 pm_

Then Zayn:

_Let’s do it_

_9:38 pm_

And finally, Niall:

_See you all there_

_9:40 pm_

Harry sends another text. 

_Louis?_

_9:41 pm_

Just one word. Just one word that happens to be his name sends Louis into a tailspin. Kissing Harry was definitely a mistake. He doesn’t even know what it means, but he knows everything is different. And Louis has always been just fine with the way things were. How is he meant to carry on treating Harry the way he always has when he knows how his lips feel against his own? When he can see that vulnerability in his eyes he never could before, burning in the back of his mind? And when he’s left wondering if what Harry said was true; was it really Louis that reminded him he was real?

And _what_ does it all mean?

_Yeah, I’ll see you guys there._

_9:43 pm_

Louis is the last to show up. He finds the other three sitting in a booth, already laughing over a shared plate of onion rings. 

“Hey,” Zayn says, nodding in his direction.

Harry and Niall are facing away from Louis, and Louis doesn’t see them until he slides in next to Zayn. Upon meeting eyes with Harry across the table, the smile on his face disappears, and Louis swears he feels something inside of him crack.

_He’s being normal. Stop it._

So Louis turns his attention to the food on the table and starts picking away. When his hand sweeps across Harry’s in the middle, the thought that Harry did it intentionally crosses his mind. 

_He’s still fucking with you._

Louis removes his hand and pulls an onion ring up to his mouth, refusing to look back up. On their side of the booth, Zayn and Niall have been chatting, paying no mind to whatever is happening next to them. Louis tries to zone in on the conversation, hoping to jump in and let his mind focus his attention elsewhere.

But he just can’t do it. His thoughts are loud, loud, loud, screaming over one another in a way that doesn’t allow Louis to hear a single one. He eventually realizes that Harry had done what he wanted to and jumped in on the conversation, leaving Louis alone to his ruminations. 

Louis leaves that night, unsure of exactly what happened, but fairly certain he didn’t say a single word the whole time. 

**

The next day, Louis does nothing but try to think of ways to get pictures of Harry to stop running through his mind. He doesn’t know why he’s so bothered by the whole thing, considering Harry doesn’t seem too concerned. All he wants to do is put it past him and go back to hating Harry. Well, he still hates Harry, but he wants to go back to _showing_ Harry he hates him.

It’s only when he’s falling asleep at night that Louis realizes he never even got out of bed. 

**

Louis shows up to the gym, genuinely excited for his first day coaching the juniors. Only half of the students from both black belt prep classes combined decided to join after receiving their new rank. So it’s a small group of six, but Louis thinks it’s a perfect size. 

What will be interesting, and probably even a difficult task, he knows, will be trying to get Alex and Ava to work together. They need to be competitive with each other, because it will solicit a desire to keep getting better. They each need to be outdone by the other on occasion, because it will keep them humble. But most importantly, they need to respect one another, because that’s what makes them a good team. 

_Oh._

Louis understands now. He and Harry aren’t friends. They never were, and it’s possible they never will be. But they respect each other. 

Louis stops at the front desk, shaking away his realization, when a small box catches his eye. He steps around and picks up the small note card beside it, labelled neatly with his name. 

_Thought you needed one like James for your first day. Good luck, coach._

_Harry_

Louis opens the small box that reveals a silver whistle. 

What is it with Harry and notes? And the sudden gift buying? What is he trying to make up for and why does he feel guilty about it?

Louis wonders briefly if maybe it’s just Harry being nice for the sake of being nice. But that doesn’t fit quite right in his conception of Harry; a conception that he’s sure is accurate.

Well, pretty sure. 

Louis carries the box, the note, and his bag over to the box office. As he walks, he pulls out his phone and spends a moment thinking about how to phrase a text to Harry. After a few alterations, he hits send and puts his phone down on the desk, deciding not to look at it again. 

He walks out into the gym and connects his phone to the speakers, starting his playlist. He doesn’t know what the students are expecting, and therefore whether or not they’ll be surprised by the mostly relaxed atmosphere. He takes the time before they arrive to try jogging a lap on his ankle. It doesn’t feel too bad, but it isn’t painless, either. Louis decides he’ll train lightly with the kids and see how it goes. 

Slowly, they start arriving. Alex first, who bombards Louis with questions about how the session is going to go, and how his holidays were, and who all joined the team, and if he celebrated his birthday. Her questions are so interspersed that Louis isn’t even sure how to answer them. So he laughs and asks how her break was, then listens intently as she responds, and finally, he tells her to go get changed. 

A couple more students show up before Ava walks in. Everyone else had mostly kept their head down and went straight to the locker room, clearly nervous. Ava, however, puts her shoes on the rack and walks right into the gym, still in her street clothes, approaching Louis. 

“Hi, Louis sir.”

Louis relaxes his muscles. He guesses part of him was slightly intimidated by her, seeing as Alex was. If Louis saw himself in Alex, in his mind, surely Ava would be a reflection of Harry. 

But that doesn’t seem to be the case. She’s smiling bright and is speaking politely and decidedly not glaring at Louis as she stands in front of him.

“Hello, Ava,” he smiles to match hers.

“I’m excited you’re coaching us.”

_Really?_

“Well,” he chuckles. “I’m glad to hear it.”

“You’re gonna make me good, right?”

Louis barely catches what she says, but once he realizes, he’s taken aback.

“You’re already good,” Louis argues, and when it doesn’t seem to please her, he adds, “but I’ll try my best to help you make yourself better.”

She appears confused by his words, so he explains:

“I can’t do it for you.”

Through the session, the students loosen up with each minute that passes. It becomes clear, however, that they’re going to need some time to adapt to the longer sessions. The jump from one hour to three isn’t easy, and it will take a physical toll until they’re fully adjusted. 

Louis spends the last hour watching them spar. They did some drills, which will not become useful to them for a while, as it takes hours upon hours to integrate a new maneuver into muscle memory. But, Louis wants to see how they do, outside of the promotion test setting, and when they’re trying to look good on their first day. He knows that even if they’re tired, they’ll try to pull out their best moves to impress Louis as well as each other. 

Everybody always wants to be the best. 

He uses his new whistle when it’s time to switch and takes notes on each member of the team; their strengths, their weaknesses, their egos. He watches as Alex and Ava battle it out, neither of them relaxed anymore. But he doesn’t say anything in the moment.

That was probably his first mistake. 

He calls the session to an end, and allows them to do the Sipjin cheer for the first time. Everyone turns to leave, and Louis turns to head into the box office. It’s only when he’s inside, looking through the glass window, that he sees Alex and Ava still left standing in the gym, entertaining a conversation that appears far less than friendly. 

Louis jumps up and steps out of the office immediately. 

“Girls!” 

They look over, and Alex storms off towards the locker room. 

Ava stands there, eyes locked on Louis.

“This is all your fault,” she says, before stalking off in the same direction as Alex. 

Louis is left confused as he steps back into the box office. 

The words ring around in his mind, sounding far too familiar. He hears them over and over again until they’ve morphed, and they’re no longer coming out of Ava’s mouth. In his mind, it’s Harry’s voice. Harry has said the exact same thing to James, and just like right now, Louis has no idea what it was about. 

Louis is already frustrated. So when he checks his phone and opens his messages with Harry, only to find his own text staring back at him, he has to try his hardest not to throw his phone against the wall of the office.

_Thanks for the whistle._

_4:33 pm_

Harry never does answer the text. 

**

Louis trains alone every day. He works his ankle, conditioning it back into the best possible health. He regains his endurance, running everyday, increasing the length each time. 

Through all of this, he manages to take his mind off Harry completely, until the day he shows up, too. 

Louis is already running when he hears the glass door slide open. He stops and looks up, finding Harry in the doorway. Harry looks frozen in his spot, obviously not expecting Louis to be there, much like Louis wasn’t expecting him to show up. But still, he walks inside and goes into the locker room, taking only a few seconds before coming out with just his water bottle in his hand. 

He doesn’t say a word as drops his water on the bench and starts to run alongside Louis, maintaining his slower pace than usual due to his ankle. He runs beside him, but doesn’t say a word. 

Louis thinks maybe he should. 

But he doesn’t. 

The two of them train in silence, moving around each other fluidly like they always have. It’s not necessarily as comfortable as it used to be, though. There’s words that need to be said dangling between them, but neither of them is willing to admit it. 

After two hours, they come to a natural end. They head into the locker room and head out together, Louis locking up behind them. In the parking lot, as they split towards their separate vehicles, Louis swears he hears Harry’s voice for the first time that night.

“Bye, Louis.”

But when Louis looks over his shoulder, Harry is still walking away from him, no sign of him ever having said anything at all. 

**

Harry doesn’t show up for group training the next night. Zayn looks to Louis as if he has an answer, which he doesn’t. He does wonder, though. 

“Does anybody know where Harry is?” James asks.

Everyone shakes their heads as they continue their stretching. James heads back into the box office, where they can watch as he starts to make a call, presumably to Harry. When James gets off the phone and comes back a few minutes later, he doesn’t say another word about it; he just dives straight into their drills.

Louis looks at Zayn, who just shrugs it off. When they’re getting dressed to leave, Louis types out a text, with no expectations of getting a response.

_Hope everything’s alright._

_8:17 pm_

“You ready?” Zayn asks, standing by the door and waiting for Louis.

“Yeah.”

His phone buzzes in his hand. Zayn looks at him curiously as he unlocks it to read.

_Thank you._

_8:18 pm_

**

Louis thinks he’s done a pretty good job lately of not talking about Harry. Ever since Zayn called him out for it, he’s tried to be cautious of how much he says. But if Zayn is the one who brings him up, well that’s his prerogative.

“So are you ever going to talk to Harry about what happened or are the two of you just going to be acting weird forever?”

Louis purses his lips. 

“We’re not acting weird,” he lies.

“Louis. I’ve seen you in the same room and I’ve been alone with both of you. Yes, you’re both acting weird,” he pauses. “It’s like you both want to say something but you’re waiting for the other to do it first.”

Louis thinks about it. Does Harry want to talk about it? 

“You need to get it worked out before provincials.”

“You’re right,” Louis sighs. “This is ridiculous.”

So Louis sends Harry a text, asking if they can talk.

Harry answers, and tells Louis to come over. 

**

Louis knows he’s the one who suggested to Harry they talk, but he still can’t find the words he wants to say. The whole drive over, his mind is running, none of his incoming thoughts focused on himself, but rather, on Harry. 

_What’s he going to say?_

_Is he even going to say anything?_

By the time Louis puts his car in park, he’s genuinely nervous. That is not a feeling he gets about Harry. It’s a brand new one and he only has himself to blame for it. In the entrance, he punches in Harry’s dial code, and he’s buzzed in without a word. He takes a deep breath and steps inside, but he has half a mind to just turn around and pretend he was never there. 

But Harry is waiting for him in the hallway, watching him. It feels like Christmas all over again. Louis offers a half smile as he approaches, stopping outside the door. 

“Are you not coming in?” Harry gestures inside.

“I don’t,” Louis stumbles, searching for an answer. “I don’t know if I should.”

“Look, Louis-”

“I’m sorry that I kissed you,” Louis blurts out. “It was probably the dumbest thing I’ve ever done and I’ll never stop regretting it.”

Harry lifts his chin slightly before dropping it again. And there’s that same vulnerable look on his face that led to Louis kissing him in the first place.

“Would you stop looking at me like that?” 

Louis steps back to unconsciously avoid the same scenario repeating itself. 

“Like you,” Louis pauses. “Like you don’t hate me anymore.”

Harry opens his mouth to say something before closing it again and shaking his head. Louis waits for a moment, thinking maybe he’ll finally speak, but he doesn’t. 

Louis closes his eyes and exhales deeply. 

“Can we just pretend it never happened?” 

Harry continues his streak of silence, nodding slowly. But then a familiar smirk grows on his face, and Louis can’t help but feel slight relief at the sight. He doesn’t know what Harry’s going to say next, but he suspects it’ll feel more normal than everything else lately. 

“I mean sure,” Harry shrugs one shoulder. “But,” he lowers his voice. “I know you’ll think of me the next time anyone else kisses you.”

Louis allows the words to sink in for a moment before moving in and slamming Harry against the wall of the hallway. Harry’s eyes flicker from fear to something darker as he looks at Louis. 

They stare at each other a moment longer before Harry dives in, crashing his lips against Louis’. And Louis is helpless against the way Harry inhales deeply as he presses closer. His mind shuts down and his grip on Harry’s shoulders only tightens. It’s only the feeling of Harry’s hair brushing against his forehead that reminds Louis what’s happening. 

This isn’t some stranger in a bar. No, this is _Harry_. 

Louis pulls away and scrambles backwards, watching as Harry just wipes at his mouth like it was nothing. Louis starts walking backwards down the hallway; away from the obscenity. 

_Why would he do that?_

_Why would HE do that?_

And then his thoughts shift slightly, no longer yelling about Harry, but rather, yelling at himself. 

_Why would I do that?_

“Great talk, Louis,” Harry calls after him. “Good luck pretending.”

And if that’s how Harry wants to go about it, then that’s just how it will be. Louis _will_ pretend. He'll go back to dagger eyes and snarky remarks. 

And Harry will just have to deal with it. 

**

It’s a little bittersweet for Louis to have a new group of black belt prep students. Sure, it’s nice to get to bring up yet another group. Plus, he still sees some of his original students on the junior team. But there’s something so nostalgic about the first group of students that got their black belts under his training. Someday, he hopes, he’ll get to watch his first group that have been strictly trained under him get their belts. All the way from beginners, right to the end. 

As far as the junior team goes, Louis feels like the more they train together, the less Alex and Ava get along. Things are only getting worse and he doesn’t know what to do. But he knows he needs to step in soon, before it goes too far, and they end up like him and Harry.

Well, maybe not _exactly_ like them. Louis doesn’t know what him and Harry look like anymore. How can Alex and Ava be a replica of a relationship so unclear?

He decides to try again. 

“Alex? Ava? Office, please.” 

The two girls share one last eye roll before following Louis into the box office. The three of them squeeze into the tight space.

“Listen,” Louis starts, sitting in his office chair, leaning his elbow on the desk. “I really need you to start getting along.”

They look at each other as if it would be the worst task in the world.

“You’re the leaders of this team. The other four look up to you, and you can’t be battling it out all the time.”

“So what about you and Harry sir, then?” Ava asks rather bluntly.

“Ava,” Alex hits her arm. “You can’t just ask that,” she explains, as if she’s never been guilty of the same thing. 

“No,” Louis nods. “It’s fair. We don’t always lead by the best example and both of us need to do better. Your teammates look up to you, and you should be able to look up to us.”

“So,” Alex says hesitantly. “Do you think you should have been nicer to him when you were our age?”

“Well,” Louis laughs. “We didn’t actually meet until we were a little bit older than you, but yeah,” Louis avoids their eyes. “I think I probably should have been a little nicer.”

“Do you think you could have been friends?” Ava presses further.

Louis thinks about it. Could they have been friends? Louis supposes it’s not so bad when they’re hanging out together in the group. Maybe if they had learned to get along earlier, they could have been friends and been able to be alone together for more than five minutes at a time, too. 

“I think so,” he nods slowly. “I think we probably could have.”

A noise startles the three of them, and they look out the window to see Harry sitting in the middle of the gym, looking as if he’s won something, somehow. 

“Hey, Louis sir?” Alex says slowly, a smile growing on her face.

“Yeah?”

Ava points at the desk. “Your elbow is on the intercom button.”

Louis looks, and then pulls his arm away quickly, realizing they’re right. 

“Thank you, girls,” he clears his throat.

_How much of that did he hear?_

_Who am I kidding, he heard all of it._

“Maybe it’s not too late,” Ava says suggestively before the two of them share what appears to be a genuine smile, and running out, waving to Harry as they head for the locker room. 

Louis gives himself a moment to sit in the silence. He knows he’ll have to leave the office eventually. 

“Girl troubles?” Harry asks, then tilts his head, obviously realizing it might not have sounded as good as it did in his head. “I mean,” he pauses. “You know what I mean.”

Louis just shakes his head. “Yeah, trying to figure out how to get them to stop tearing each other to shreds anytime they get the chance.”

Harry nods. 

“So,” he draws out. “You think we could have been friends, huh?” 

_I could kiss that smirk off his face._

Louis shakes his head forcefully. 

_Kick._

_I could kick it off his stupid face._

Louis looks back up at Harry, who’s looking up at him from the ground with his eyebrows raised, looking amused, clearly wondering what just went on in Louis’ thought process.

“Shut up,” Louis says as he sits down next to him to stretch. 

They sit together in silence, and Louis watches as Alex and Ava chat, walking out the door together.

**

The night before they leave for provincials, James calls for a group session. They don’t actually train during these sessions, but they sit around and talk and stretch and they’re usually quite useful. Louis thinks everyone leaves feeling a little less anxious. 

James goes over the itinerary again, reminding them what time the bus leaves and what time they need to be up every morning on the weekend. Surely, he’ll remind them of these things repeatedly, but it’s the night before, and that’s just what they do. 

Every now and then, Louis will glance over to Harry, only to find him with his eyes trained on the ground on every occasion. But because Louis is going back to the way things were before, he’s not going to ask, because he’s not supposed to care. 

But then it reminds him of something else altogether: where was Harry the night he missed training? 

He turns to ask Zayn if he ever found out, but decides against it. Zayn clearly senses Louis was going to say something, but Louis just shakes his head when Zayn raises his eyebrows. So Louis just watches as Zayn turns to his other side and reaches for Gigi’s hand, who takes it casually and continues chatting with Lauren on her other side. 

Louis looks over at Harry again, and sees him looking at the same thing. When Harry realizes Louis’ turned his attention from their hands to his own face, Harry looks up and catches Louis’ eye. Louis panics, and just casually puts up his middle finger before turning back to Zayn. 

When James lets them go early in the evening, Harry is the first to stand up and walk away. As the locker room door swings shut behind him, Gigi speaks up.

“Does he seem nervous to anyone else?”

Louis definitely thinks so, but doesn’t want to be the one to say anything.

“Yeah,” Mackenzie nods. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him like this.”

“Alright,” James cuts them off. “Enough. Go home.”

They all head towards the locker rooms, and as Zayn and Louis are about to walk inside, Harry pops out and puts his head down as he walks. 

“Hey,” Louis doesn’t think as he grabs his arm. “Are you alright?”

Harry looks back at Louis before shaking his arm off forcefully. 

“Fine,” he answers, before continuing on his straight path to the exit. 

Zayn goes into the locker room then, but Louis just watches on as Harry puts his shoes on and runs out. What happened between the other day and right now?

Louis shakes it away, realizing he shouldn’t care. He’s not supposed to, because he’s the one who suggested they continue with how things were before. But the problem is that he does care. And Louis knows this now. He cares but he shouldn’t. And what’s even worse is that he doesn’t want to not care. 

Zayn drives Louis home, and he showers and tries to go right to sleep. Tries, being the key word. 

He just can’t get Harry’s stupid, nervous face out of his mind.

**

The bus is leaving at half past six in the morning, which is only an hour away from the time Louis wakes up. James told them he wanted to make sure their sleep schedule was ‘on track’, despite it only being a three hour commute. Although it sucks, it makes sense. Louis knows they can’t afford to be exhausted after getting to sleep in one day and be up extremely early the next. They can’t be playing catch-up on sleep all weekend.

Louis double checks his bags, then checks them one more time. 

He would never forgive himself if he forgot anything important. This is a huge tournament. Place at provincials, qualify for nationals. Win nationals, qualify for worlds. And of course, if you can somehow manage to place in the top eight at worlds, that earns a quota spot for the Olympics. But Louis is trying to only worry about one thing at a time. And he won’t need to worry about anything else if he doesn’t place at this tournament, so that’s his only focus at the moment.

His focus is displaced when his phone rings. 

“Hey, Zayn,” he answers quickly, zipping his duffel bag closed and reattaching his helmets on the strap.

“Hey, I’ll be there in five.”

“See you then.”

Louis does one last quick sweep of his apartment before heading outside to meet Zayn. He slides into the front seat almost before Zayn even makes a complete stop.

“You seem ready,” he comments. 

“Yeah,” Louis nods. “It’s gonna be a good one,” then quietly he adds, “it has to be.”

Not long later, they’re pulling into the nearly empty parking lot of the studio, illuminated in the early morning by the streetlamps overhead. 

Louis gets out and starts talking to some of the prospective competition program students coming along. It’s simply a group of black belts who aren’t currently on the junior or senior teams, but may still want to join later. And since it’s unreasonable for them to fly out to nationals or worlds just to watch, they come to the provincial tournament that only requires hopping on a bus for the weekend. 

Louis can’t help but watch when he notices Harry’s familiar car pulling into the stall next to Zayn’s. He gets out of the car, still not exuding his usual confidence, and walks straight onto the bus without a word. The nervousness from the night before has seemed to follow him into the morning. Louis looks over at Zayn, who just shrugs before resuming his chat with the girls. 

“Alright,” James’ voice bellows eventually. “Let’s head out.”

With everyone on the bus, the driver pulls out of the parking lot and hits the road. 

“Alright,” Louis says to Zayn sitting next to him. “We can’t sleep.” 

“So… What?” Zayn leans back in his seat.

“I downloaded a movie we could watch,” Louis suggests.

“Sold.”

“Okay, don’t fall asleep,” he jokes. “I will wake you up.”

“Yes sir.”

Louis pulls out his laptop that he made sure to fully charge and passes Zayn an earbud. They squeeze closer together, so as not to stretch the cord too far between them. They sit and watch the movie and only once it ends does Louis turn in his seat to look around. He picks up on conversations between the prospects and James, as well as the four girls all sitting together. As he turns to look behind them, Louis catches a glimpse of Harry; the only person sitting alone, staring out the window, leg tapping. 

“Hey,” Louis turns back to Zayn. “Do you know what’s up with Harry? Normally he’s so full of himself leading up to these competitions. Why does he actually seem nervous right now?”

“Who knows,” Zayn shrugs. “If you’re so curious, you could just ask him. You know. Talk to him again.” 

Louis shakes his head, knowing exactly how that interaction would go down. Or maybe he doesn’t. He isn’t so sure anymore. And maybe that’s the real reason not to ask; the uncertainty of it all.

“Who cares,” Louis says, finally. “We’re already halfway there. I can only assume we’ll squeeze in a training session today.” 

Zayn groans and leans back in his seat.

“Hey, Lou,” he says, staring at the ceiling of the bus.

Louis turns his head to look at his best friend beside him, right where he always is.

“Yeah?”

“What are we going to do when this is all over? When we’re not in our prime anymore?”

Louis has an idea. He always has, but it doesn’t feel like one to be shared. He doesn't want to ruin it before it even has the chance to happen. He’s never really discussed it with anyone. 

“I don’t know,” he laughs it off. “But this doesn’t feel like a conversation for eight in the morning on a bus.” 

Zayn just nods, still staring up, clearly lost in his own thoughts. Louis takes the opportunity to steal one more glance at Harry, only this time it isn’t actually stolen, because Harry catches his eye. There’s a strange look on his face that Louis can’t quite place, but before he can try any harder, Harry tears his eyes away and goes back to staring out the window. 

Louis turns back around, passes one headphone to Zayn again, who accepts it without question, and plays music from his usual bus playlist for the rest of the trip.

**

“Alright, guys, let’s go!” James is yelling at them, not even half an hour after they stepped off the bus. 

They’re doing sprints in a gymnasium near their hotel. James is even making the prospective students train, just so they can feel like they’re part of the team. Not enough for them to be on the group text though, in which James sent out a dinner invite for the evening after they’re done training. 

After a couple hours of stretching and light kicking practice, James dismisses them in the late afternoon. He takes them straight to the hotel, where they get their room assignments. James takes care of everything at the front desk while they all stand around in the lobby. There’s other obvious competitors milling about, already having checked in at some point. 

“Alright,” James approaches them with key cards. “Girls are on the fourth floor, boys on the fifth.”

He starts handing out room keys in pairs, starting with the prospect students, and finally to the competition team. The girls pair off, seeing as there are four of them, whereas the boys are only three. 

“One of you gets a room to yourself,” James says, looking between them. “I’m assuming Zayn and Louis are sharing?”

Harry nods. “That’s fine,” he agrees, then takes one of the last keys.

“Get showered, get settled,” James nods. “See you tonight, boys.”

They all take the elevator up together, the last ones to clear out the lobby. 

Harry steps into his room without another word once they get to their respective rooms, directly across from one another. 

“Something’s up…” Louis says, shaking his head when the door closes behind Harry as Zayn gets their door open. 

“Why do you care so much?” Zayn calls him out, making him realize he shouldn’t have the energy to give to Harry.

“You’re right, I shouldn’t.”

“I never said you shouldn’t,” Zayn counters.

“Oh, shut up,” Louis closes the door behind them.

**

“Woah, you got dressed up,” Zayn comments immediately as Louis steps out of the bathroom after his shower.

“Too much?” Louis asks, looking down at his outfit, suddenly feeling self-conscious of his choice. 

“No,” Zayn answers quickly. “You look good, Louis.” 

“Thanks,” Louis smiles, looking up again. “Let’s go eat.”

**

It’s at dinner when Louis puts it together. He watches Harry carefully and discreetly, so he notices when he spends a lot longer looking at the menu than he normally does at these team dinners. He notices what he finally does order, and then he notices when he packs up half of the undressed salad to go. 

“Before you go,” James says, raising his water glass. “A toast.”

Everybody raises their glasses, none of them containing alcoholic beverages, because those are reserved for the last night, after the competition is over. 

“To the best team I’ve ever gotten to work with. I’m proud of you guys. Good luck this weekend,” James smiles, looking at each of them. “Cheers!”

Everybody clinks glasses ungracefully, and then they start leaving. Zayn takes off with Gigi, leaving Louis to head back to their room alone. He gets up when Harry does, and follows a few steps behind him, making sure to catch the same elevator. 

“I know what you’re doing,” Louis says, once the door closes, ensuring they’re alone. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Harry says after a long silence. “Which means you don’t, either.” 

“Harry,” the elevator dings and the doors open. “You think it isn’t obvious?”

Harry steps out of the elevator quickly and Louis follows him, catching up to be by his side. 

“Louis, you always think you know everything,” Harry continues to deflect. 

They get to their rooms and Harry swipes his key card quickly. Louis is right behind him to put a hand on the door, making sure Harry doesn’t slam him out. 

“Listen to me. You need to finish your meal. You need the energy.”

Harry stares Louis down for a long moment, then looks down at his boxed up food. He’s got one foot inside his room, with Louis holding the door open on the outside. 

“Okay,” he finally says. “Goodnight, Louis.”

He closes the door and Louis takes a step back. He stands for another moment, contemplating knocking on the door. But he knows it’s not his job. It’s Harry’s choice, and Louis knows he won’t listen to him, anyways. So instead, he turns around and swipes the key card to his own room. He turns on the television and falls asleep before Zayn gets back.

**

“Zayn, time to get up,” Louis shakes him awake in the morning after he hits snooze on his first two alarms. “Time to get ready.”

Louis is already dressed and ready to go. He called it an early night, which meant waking up early. 

Zayn groans loudly but throws the blankets off. 

“What time did you get back here last night?” Louis asks curiously. 

“It was around eleven,” Zayn sits up, rubbing his eyes. “I wasn’t even out that late. I don’t know why I feel so tired.”

Louis raises his eyebrows and Zayn just throws a pillow at him. Louis laughs it off and jumps off the bed as Zayn gets up to get ready.

Together, they double check their equipment bags and then head down to the lobby where they’re meeting everyone else to head out to the gymnasium. 

Noticeably, Harry is missing. 

“Anybody hear from Harry this morning?” 

Heads shaking, everyone looks around as if to silently ask one another. Just as James is preparing to call his room, Harry emerges from the elevator, sputtering apologies as he jogs over to meet the group. 

James just looks at him, then turns to the group as a whole. 

“Let’s head out.” 

**

At the tournament location, they all get changed in the locker rooms and meet back in a stairwell in the building they claimed as their own. 

“Alright,” James pulls out his personal scale he carries with him for competitions. “Girls first.”

One by one, the girls step on the scale, each falling neatly into their required weight class. The boys take turns after, Louis going after Zayn, looking over his shoulder at Harry. When he steps off, he hears Harry audibly exhale before stepping on. Louis wishes he could see, but knows he doesn’t need to when Harry steps off and turns around, shoving forcefully past Louis. He slams their shoulders together hard, causing Louis to stumble backwards lightly. Zayn grabs him to stabilize his balance, and Louis looks over his shoulder to watch Harry bolting down the stairs. James calls after him, but Louis tells him he’ll deal with it, following Harry down. 

“Harry!” Louis calls, pushing the door open as it closes after Harry. 

He finds Harry pacing in the empty hallway he’s ended up in, hands on his head. 

“What do you want, Louis?” Harry stops pacing and turns his attention to Louis. “You’re here to rub it in? Tell me you were right? That you knew it?”

Harry is clearly worked up and Louis knows he’s just looking for someone to take it out on. He also knows that he needs to be careful what he says next, but before he even gets the chance, Harry presses on.

“Because I knew it,” he admits, stepping right up in Louis’ face. “And this is it. I don’t fight today and that’s it. My season is over. No nationals, no worlds, nothing. All because-”

“Shut up, Harry,” Louis snaps, squeezing his eyes shut, unable to take it anymore. “Just,” he lowers his voice again. “Stop. How much is it? Exactly?”

Harry takes a small step back, seeming to calm down again at Louis’ gentler tone. “One point one.”

“That’s it?” Louis has to hold back a laugh. “That small number is what you’re throwing this tantrum over?”

“Shut up,” Harry spits. “I didn’t ask you to follow me down here.” Then, softer, he adds, “Why did you?”

Louis thinks about it. He could leave Harry on his own, likely unable to fight. That would knock him out of the competition and it would be one less person for Louis to have to worry about. On the other hand, since they’re from the same studio, they’ll start on opposite sides of the bracket, anyways, meaning the only way they’ll end up fighting each other is if they’re competing for gold, and they’ve both already qualified for nationals. 

“Because you need to fight today,” Louis says adamantly. “And there’s thirty minutes until check-in.”

“You’re helping me?” Harry clarifies. 

Louis isn’t sure why this seems to come as such a shock to Harry. They’ve been able to put aside their differences and help each other before; this wouldn’t be the first time.

“If you don’t want me to, I’ll go,” Louis offers.

“No, stay,” Harry says quickly. “Please,” he adds, voice softer again. 

“I always come prepared,” Louis laughs. “Stay here.”

Louis goes back into the stairwell and bounds up to the in-between level where everyone else is still sitting. He grabs his bag while everyone stares at him, waiting for something.

“Well?” James asks.

“One point one,” Louis laughs. “Has he never been over before?” 

James thinks, then shakes his head. “Not that I can remember.”

Louis ignores Zayn’s eyes on him, not wanting to deal with that quite yet. He turns back to meet Harry in the hallway. 

“Alright,” he drops his bag and unzips it, pulling out the lifesaver he always carries with him, just in case something like this were to happen. He grabs a pen out of his bag to poke holes he can get his fingers into and rip big enough for Harry to fit through. 

“Strip,” he instructs, pointing one finger from Harry’s torso down to his feet. 

“What?” Harry argues. 

“Do you trust me or not? Take off your dobok and put this on. Then you’re doing sprints in this hallway, and I’m going to find the sauna in this rec centre.” 

Louis looks anywhere but at Harry as he strips to his underwear, then hands him the garbage bag. 

Harry looks at him for a long moment, waiting for Louis to look back at him. Louis locks eyes with Harry and then clears his throat.

“What are you waiting for?” Louis breaks the silence. “The clock is literally ticking.”

Louis turns around and takes off before Harry can say anything else. He runs down to the main level, searching the directory at the front entrance. He finds what he’s looking for and heads back up to find Harry. 

“Harry!” He calls, opening the door to the hallway they’d taken over. 

Harry stops running and puts his hands on his knees, breathing heavily.

“Good,” Louis smirks. “I see it’s working already.”

Louis motions for Harry to follow. He leaves their stuff behind and follows Louis down the hall towards the sauna, which happens to be on the same floor they’re already on. They get there and Harry’s the first to realize it’s restricted access. 

“Now what?” Harry asks, sounding defeated. “I just keep sprinting?”

“Why do you give up so easily?” Louis laughs. “And you call me dramatic.”

“Because you are, Louis,” Harry counters quickly. “Now what’s your plan here?” 

Louis’ plan is to wait and it’s already worked. He watches through the glass as somebody moves towards the door. 

“Okay, shut up and go with it,” Louis whispers before shoving Harry against the lockers and moving to his side, blocking the view of his face from the man leaving the sauna. 

He presses his face into Harry’s neck, keeping his mouth closed but pressed against Harry’s warm skin. Louis swears Harry moans quietly as he tilts his head up and arches his back away from the lockers, and Louis is impressed by his commitment to the act. When he told Harry to go with it, he wasn’t expecting Harry to _really_ go with it. 

Louis hears the door and turns around quickly, clenching a fist around the garbage bag.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. How embarrassing,” he pulls Harry close behind him, dragging him forward as Louis subtly steps towards the sauna door. 

The man nods, then turns around to walk in the other direction, and Louis catches the door with his foot, then drags Harry around his body and pushes him inside. 

Harry looks at him through the glass door, cheeks flushed. 

“I’ll knock when you need to get out,” Louis says. “Go.” 

A smile creeps onto Harry’s face, and Louis almost feels satisfied, knowing he’s the one who put it there. 

Louis sits down and leans back against the lockers, pulling his phone out. 

Fifteen minutes until check-in. 

And five texts from Zayn.

_What is your plan here, Louis??_

_Oh you’re making him run. The good old garbage bag, water weight trick_

_Hello?? Tell me what’s going on!_

_Unless you’re fucking. If that’s how you’re making him sweat, I don’t want to know. Keep it to yourself._

_Don’t be late for check-in, Lou._

Louis laughs silently at the texts, then sends one back to reassure Zayn that everything is fine. 

With seven minutes until check-in, Louis knocks on the glass. Harry comes out immediately, sweating immensely. 

“I hope this worked,” he whispers.

“It did,” Louis smiles. “I know it.”

“Because you know everything?” Harry quips, joking about his accusation the previous night.

Louis just rolls his eyes.

“Come on.”

They run down the hallway, back to where they abandoned their stuff. Harry removes the garbage bag, and Louis takes it and puts it in the garbage of a nearby bathroom, getting rid of the evidence. By the time he’s back, Harry is tying his belt, skin still glowing. They open the door to the stairwell where it’s only James and Zayn left.

“The girls went to check-in,” James explains. 

Harry nods, and walks up to the scale. Again, he takes a deep breath before stepping on. He looks down at the number and sighs in relief. 

“It worked,” he steps off. “Holy shit,” he turns around, still unable to find words. “Thank you, Louis,” he nods. “Really.” 

Louis nods back. 

“Alright,” Zayn interrupts. “Let’s get to check-in before none of us can fight because we’re late.”

They grab their stuff and climb the stairs to the competition gymnasium. 

When they burst through the doors, Louis smiles and takes it all in. It’s nothing compared to nationals, but it’s where he needs to be right now, and it’s a good start. The three of them line up at the desk and complete their check-in. Harry can’t wipe the smile off his face when he makes it through. 

“You owe me one,” Louis says, recalling every other time he’s said something to that effect lately. 

“Yeah,” Harry nods as he looks around in awe, too. “I guess I do.”

They hunt down a space for themselves and put their gear down. James wants them all to warm-up together as a team before heading out for the forms competition. They all stretch in their space, then watch as Zayn, Mackenzie and Natalie run through the motions of their poomsae and their freestyle. Natalie is only competing in individual, Mackenzie is competing in team with Zayn, and Zayn is competing in both. 

Louis smiles as he watches Zayn, knowing he’s having an excellent season. He couldn’t be happier in the moment.

“Hey, Louis,” Harry interrupts his thoughts, nudging his arm. “You know I’m still gonna kick your ass, right?”

Despite that comment, Louis still couldn’t be happier. 

Before the three of them leave, they do a quiet edition of their Sipjin cheer, and then Louis, Harry, Gigi, and Lauren go to join the prospective students on the bleachers. They ask some questions that they all take turns answering based on their personal experience, then Gigi draws their attention to the ring, where things are getting started. 

They do poomsae first. Everyone always remains quiet, which seems to be an unspoken rule. But when freestyle is performed, that rule is thrown out the window. They clap loudly and cheer anytime they do something incredibly impressive. Which is all of it, really. 

“Eh!” They all yell, standing on their feet as Mackenzie lands her tricking section.

They watch her score pop up on the screens, taking first place, with only Natalie left to perform in the category. Natalie performs, and when her score pops up, she lands neatly in third place, securing her spot at nationals for freestyle, after being knocked out of poomsae. They cheer loudly again, letting Natalie know they’re proud of her. 

The teams perform after individuals are done, and Mackenzie and Zayn are the last ones up. Once they get set up, the music starts and they’re off. At one point, they fall out of sync, but Zayn manages to make it look like it’s what they intended. Everyone cheers through their kicking combination, and then it’s over. They both secured spots for individual poomsae, but they would love to continue performing together. They wait for their scores as everyone holds their breath. 

Second place.

They burst into cheer. All three of them will be going to nationals. 

After the medal presentation, Mackenzie and Natalie join everyone on the bleachers as Louis, Harry, Gigi and Lauren head down to join Zayn and start gearing up. James meets them in their spot. 

“Alright,” James says seriously. “You know, I never want to put pressure on any of you,” he looks around at each of them. “But I would hate to be going to nationals without all of you. So let’s make it happen.”

They put their hands in and cheer quietly before heading to the warm-up room. It’s only then that Louis gets a little nervous. He hasn’t actually fought since hurting his ankle. He’s gone back to training on it, but hasn’t had a full fight. The more he thinks about it, he hasn’t made contact with a solid target, yet.

Zayn’s already been escorted out to get to his ring for the preliminary round. 

“Harry,” he finds him in the crowded room. “I need you,” he pauses. “To let me kick your gear.”

Harry just nods, and without a word he puts his hands inside his gear, holding it out and allowing Louis to kick freely. 

“Does it feel alright?” Harry asks, realizing the cause for Louis’ sudden concern. 

“For now,” he shrugs. “It should be fine.”

Far sooner than anticipated, they’re being escorted out by officials to get ready for their matches. 

“See you in the finals,” Louis says as they’re separated. 

It’s a strange rule that fighters can’t watch the preliminary matches of their own division. So they have a separate holding room, apart from the warm-up room. Louis is brought there first, while Harry is going out to fight right away.

Louis doesn’t have to watch to know he’ll win. 

When it’s Louis’ turn, he passes by Harry, who’s being brought back to the holding room as the other competitor is walking towards the bleachers, his day over at the hands of Harry. Louis gives him a short nod and then goes out to get to work.

Louis wins handily, boosting his confidence about his ankle. He’s brought back to the holding room, and there’s only one preliminary group left. Once they finish, they’re allowed to wander until it’s their division’s turn again. All of the preliminaries happen first, then all quarter-finals. The next day is reserved for the semi-finals and finals, which all take place in one big centre ring they create after day one. It’s formatted to be a smaller scale of nationals, and an even smaller scale of worlds. 

“And then there were eight,” Harry comments as they all walk out, heading back to their coaches and teams. 

Zayn, Gigi and Lauren all greet the two of them with applause. 

“Good work, everyone,” James draws their attention. “One more match each today.”

Louis hopes everyone makes it through, because he always prefers day two, when he gets to watch all the matches. He loves cheering them on, and, there’s just something different about knowing your team is watching you fight. Louis definitely enjoys that aspect, too. 

They rotate through the warm-up and holding rooms again, and all five of them end the tournament for five more unlucky competitors. 

Everyone is competing in the semi-finals on day two.

** 

After showering back at the hotel, everyone gets dressed up to go out for dinner again, prospective students included this time. It’s a nice, tame night, and everyone is back in their rooms and ready for bed early in the evening, preparing to wake up and do it all over the next day. 

“Louis, could you get that?” Zayn says from where he’s laying in bed when there’s a knock on the door.

Louis walks out of the bathroom, still brushing his teeth, and opens the door to find Harry standing there. For a moment, he doesn’t say anything, just stands in surprise at the sight of Louis in pyjamas and a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth.

“Yes?” Louis asks, careful not to spit with a mouthful of toothpaste.

“Um,” Harry stammers. “I need to borrow toothpaste, if that’s okay.”

“Go ahead,” Louis steps aside, letting him in, only then noticing the toothbrush in Harry’s own hand.

Louis turns around to look at Zayn who is staring at him with wide eyes. 

“Thanks,” Harry interrupts their silent conversation. “Goodnight,” he walks out and Louis swings the door shut behind him before going straight to the bathroom to rinse his mouth. 

“Louis,” Zayn prods him. “He was literally undressing you with his eyes. In your pyjamas.”

Louis shakes his head. “No, he wasn’t,” he says with conviction. “He was just surprised. Now,” Louis laughs as he jumps onto his bed. “Go to sleep. You’re obviously tired.”

“Sure,” Zayn laughs, turning off the lamp beside him. “Whatever you say.” 

**

“Let’s go, Gigi!” Louis yells as she lands another point, drawing her hand into the air. 

Lauren had already won her semi-final match, and the boys are just now getting ready to go, with Zayn’s division right after Gigi’s. His match is the second of the two, so he waits around to see the end of her fight. 

After she’s declared the winner and she exits the ring, Zayn kisses her quickly before heading to the warm-up room. Gigi stays with Lauren, Harry and Louis, and they scan the bleachers quickly to find Mackenzie, Natalie, and the prospects. Gigi laughs and waves to them as they cheer for her upon eye contact. 

“You guys ready?” Lauren asks, turning to Harry and Louis.

They both nod.

Everything is reset and the first match in Zayn’s division gets started. Before long, James and Zayn are walking out to replace one of the competitors in the chair. 

Zayn has learned how to better conserve his energy throughout a match, which often means trailing in the first round. James shows no concern during the break period. He speaks calmly to Zayn, who sips lightly on his water, swishing it around his mouth as he listens. When the referee calls them back, he swallows and does his helmet back up.

Harry leaves to warm up at that point, knowing his match is next. Louis watches him jog over to the door leading to the smaller room, then turns his attention back when the referee resumes Zayn’s match.

Zayn takes the lead and holds onto it and everyone in the gymnasium cheers loudly as he lands a final headshot to end the match. As Zayn exits the ring, Harry moves into his old chair. He smiles and waves at the team in the bleachers, then puts his game face on. Louis gives Zayn a hug, not caring about the sweat dripping off his forehead. 

“Good fight,” he says. “You’re fighting at nationals, man.”

Zayn pulls away and smiles at Louis. This isn’t the first time, but Louis suspects Zayn will do better than he has in the past, leading him to smile right back.

Harry’s match begins, and everyone watches as he moves around the ring so effortlessly. Just like Harry had done before, Louis leaves after the first round.

“Good luck,” the three others call after him. 

Louis is mostly warmed up already, given that James always makes them work together at the start of the day, and keep moving throughout the other matches. As it turns out, this is extremely useful, because it’s not even three minutes later that an official is calling Louis and his opponent out of the room. 

Though he’s confused, he can’t let it throw him. As he gets to what had been Harry’s chair just minutes ago, he asks James what happened.

“Harry won. The other guy hit the ground after an intense interaction and couldn’t continue.”

“Wow.”

“Focus,” James warns him. “You have to win this match to secure nationals.”

“Way to not put pressure on me James,” Louis laughs, and the nervousness only rises when he looks across the ring to see his opponent already staring him down.

But Louis gets it done. He fights like he knows how, and he wins. 

The five of them are all able to celebrate together, given the small break between the semi-finals and finals. All seven of them have secured a place.

“Welcome to nationals,” Zayn whispers to Louis as they all bounce together.

_Welcome to nationals._

**

Lauren loses her gold medal match, but takes defeat like a champion. It’s only her first year on the team, anyways, and everyone is already more than proud of her. Gigi wins her nail-biter of a match by one point, making the reaction to the end result even bigger. 

Zayn wins, and then it’s down to Louis and Harry. Normally, in this situation, the two finalists would warm-up separately. But they work together to make sure all their sensors are still working and their gear is tied as loose as they’d like. They take turns landing shots and stretching up to the others’ heads. 

As Harry motions an axe kick to Louis’ face, Louis laughs but somewhat seriously asks, “don’t knock me out, okay?”

“No promises,” Harry answers with a shrug, but a teasing grin to match. 

They’re introduced by the announcer as they walk out to take their opposing seats. The crowd is in uproar, enraptured by the idea of two people from the same city and studio battling it out for the gold medal. 

Since James stays out of it, Zayn stands by Louis’ side while the girls stand by Harry’s. 

“You guys didn’t like,” Zayn looks around to make sure nobody can overhear. “You didn’t make a deal, did you?”

“No,” Louis shakes his head. “It’s a real fight.”

And it is. It’s real when Harry starts with the lead in the first round, then it’s still real when Louis takes it in the second. And it’s definitely real when Louis tweaks his ankle in the third. Harry notices when Louis winces. 

It’s not bad, really. Louis keeps moving. But Harry also doesn’t take it as an opportunity to take advantage. The referee motions for them to make contact, and Louis knows they’re just running out the clock at this point. He lifts his bad ankle for a cut kick and chases Harry down with it, before twisting his body to land the roundhouse on his chest gear, but Harry avoids it and counters, scoring a soft point on Louis’ gear. 

Everybody cheers as the referee calls the end of the match. Louis glances over at the scoreboard and realizes he lost. He isn’t sure when he gave up the lead, but the fact that he doesn’t know is what tells him that Harry absolutely could have been worse. 

They shake hands politely, almost as if they didn’t know each other, and then Harry’s offering his arm for Louis to hold onto as they exit the ring. The crowd cheers louder at the sight of Louis taking his arm for support.

At dinner that night, the team dresses up extra nice and they all enjoy a glass of champagne. James toasts to them, a marvellously different tone than the first night when they didn’t know how the weekend would pan out. As they head out, James reminds them that they can sleep in the next day, because the bus isn’t leaving until the early afternoon. 

“So, what are you doing tonight?” Zayn asks Louis quietly, away from everyone else.

Louis isn’t oblivious. “You want the room,” he sighs. “Don’t you?”

Zayn gives him a pleading look that tells him everything you need to know.

“The competition is over,” he says, trying to convince Louis further.

“Yeah, yeah,” Louis laughs. “I’ll figure something out.”

“You’re the best!” Zayn presses a dramatic kiss to Louis’ cheek and then runs off to catch up with Gigi.

Louis finds himself wandering over towards Harry. He’s standing alone, too, and somehow, that’s what draws Louis to him. 

“Hey,” Louis says.

“Hey,” Harry answers.

They hadn’t spoken since the medal ceremony, where they bickered on the podium and the bronze medalists expressed some concern. 

“What are you doing tonight?” Louis asks casually, nudging Harry’s shoulder with his.

Harry looks over at Louis, then ahead to Gigi and Zayn, then back to Louis as he scoffs.

“You’re on your own.”

Louis doesn’t say anything after that, When did he get desperate enough to seek Harry’s company, anyways?

“Alright,” Harry says suddenly. “I guess you can stay in my room.”

And truthfully, that hadn’t even been what Louis was looking for. He didn’t think that far ahead. Just thought he’d need something to do for the night, and didn’t want to hang around alone in the hotel. 

“Cool,” he answers, as if that’s what he was asking for the whole time.

Louis looks over and sees Zayn and Gigi still standing at the bar, and he realizes he should probably beat them upstairs to grab everything he’ll need for the night. So him and Harry take the elevator up together, and Harry waits in his room for Louis to come over with his sleep apparel, toothbrush and phone charger. 

“It’s still pretty early,” Harry comments as Louis gets himself set up on the bed that was clearly untouched. 

“So?” 

Louis wasn’t planning on sleeping right away, but he’s interested in hearing Harry’s proposal. 

“So,” Harry echoes. “We should do something.” 

“Like what?”

“I don’t know,” Harry shrugs. “But we don’t have to be up early.”

The two of them end up aimlessly wandering the hotel in their three piece suits. Harry decides to ask the concierge suggestions for something to do for the evening. 

And that’s how they end up drinking beer and eating popcorn in the nosebleed seats of an NHL game. Lous doesn’t watch much hockey; their team isn’t very good, so he doesn’t see the point. Harry, however, seems very interested and knowledgeable, keeping Louis quite entertained. 

He points out all the players on the ice and where they should be and he mutters when the referee makes what he claims is a bad call. The more time Louis spends with Harry, the more he unveils about him that he never knew before. 

“Hey,” Louis says, as they walk around the building during an intermission, ignoring the weird looks for what they’re wearing. “Why did you miss training a few days ago?”

The question hasn’t been able to fully disappear from Louis’ mind, so he figures this was the best time to ask. 

Harry looks at him, as if he’s surprised Louis even noticed.

“Just a small disagreement with James, that’s all.”

“And,” Louis drawls. “That’s all you’re going to say about it, isn’t it?”

“Huh,” Harry laughs.

“What?”

“You know me better than I thought.”

Louis shoves him lightly as they complete their lap and head back to their seats. But Louis can’t stop thinking that maybe he knows Harry better than he _himself_ thought, too. 

**

It’s late and it’s dark and they get lost on their way back. They get into a screaming match on a street corner.

“Can you not just use your phone?” Harry throws his hands in the air. “How hard is it to look at where we are, and then look at where we need to be, and then figure out how to get there from here?”

“Shut up,” Louis yells right back. “Maybe if you weren’t so impatient.”

“Well, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’re just wearing suits and it’s minus twenty out here. So, excuse me if I want to get back to the hotel.”

“You do it, then! Take a look around and figure out which way to go.”

Harry actually does as he’s told. He looks around in every direction before turning back to Louis.

“I don’t know! None of this is familiar, because you managed to lead us so far off the path,” Harry continues to argue.

“How do you know that?” Louis counters. “We don’t know this city!” 

“Alright,” Harry takes a step back and puts his hands on his face. “You know what? I’m going to call a cab, and you’re welcome to join me if you’d like,” he says sarcastically, fingers trembling as he pulls out his own phone. 

But Louis is stubborn. He has too much pride to be wrong, especially when it comes to Harry. Or maybe only when it comes to Harry. Would he ever even consider doing the same thing with Zayn? He isn’t sure, but he keeps walking anyway. He doesn’t realize how far he’s wandered, and when he turns around to look back for Harry, he can’t see him. Louis calls out his name, but he’s gone. 

Almost an hour later, Louis is knocking on Harry’s door. 

It swings open and Harry is standing there, like he’d been waiting for Louis this whole time. 

“You’re a fucking idiot,” he tells him.

“I know,” Louis admits. 

Then, when he notices Louis’ incessant teeth chattering, he sighs and drops the matter.

“Come on, let’s get you in a hot shower.” 

After spending long enough in the shower for the water to run cold, Louis steps out and dries off, before getting dressed and stepping back into the bedroom, Harry glances up from his phone.

“Better?”

Louis nods and lays down in his bed, ready for sleep after a long day and an even longer night. He pulls the blankets up to his chin, but finds the sudden change in temperature is making it difficult for him to get warm again.

“Louis?”

Louis doesn’t answer.

“Do you want to come share?” Harry asks hesitantly.

Does Louis want to go share a single bed with Harry?

_No._

“I’ll be fine,” he says. 

Harry doesn’t say anything else, and the silence doesn’t calm Louis’ shivering. Deciding not to make the same mistake twice in one night, Louis swallows his pride. 

“Harry?” 

Within seconds, Harry is sliding in behind Louis, almost like he was anticipating Louis giving in. His legs tangle with Louis’, and Louis is asleep nearly the second there’s a strong arm wrapped around his body and the sensation of warm breath against his neck. 

**

When Louis wakes up in the morning, they’re laying in the exact same position they fell asleep in. Louis slips out of Harry’s hold and heads into the bathroom. Once he cleans up, he grabs his things and walks out the door, opening it quietly and letting it close gently behind him. He walks across the hall and knocks on his own door, hoping Zayn and Gigi are awake already. When he hears Zayn answer, he swipes his key card and walks inside.

“Good morning, lovers,” Louis says to where they’re sitting together on Zayn’s bed. 

“Where did you end up last night?” Gigi asks suggestively.

_Does Zayn have her in on this now, too?_

“Harry and I went to a hockey game,” Louis avoids their eyes as he sits on his bed.

“You hate hockey,” Zayn points out and Louis just shrugs. 

“And I presume you slept in Harry’s room too?” 

Louis glares at Gigi, but her expression remains the same.

“Yes,” Louis answers slowly, carefully. 

“And?” Zayn adds.

“And?” Louis shakes his head.

“He’s not dead in his room, right? If I go across the hall and check-”

Louis throws a pillow at him. 

**

On the bus ride back, Gigi sits with the girls, and Zayn stays with Louis, and for that, Louis is thankful. The two of them sleep some more, still tired from the entire weekend. But there’s a silver medal in Louis’ bag that reminds him it’s worth it. 

Their days go back to normal. Louis goes back to work, and the team goes back to intense training, now with nationals on the horizon. They have just under two months to be ready. 

They also go back to hanging out as a group. After spending what felt like no time together throughout the month, Louis feels like he practically lives with his four boys by the end of it. Occasionally, Zayn will bring Gigi along, and those times are good, too. One night, they hang out while Harry has individual training so they can make plans for his birthday that’s coming up. 

They don’t plan anything fancy, really, but they’re all pretty sure it will be fun regardless. 

“Hey,” Louis says to Niall. “What can you tell me about Harry’s family?”

And that’s the night Louis decides what he’ll give Harry for his birthday. 

**

Unsurprisingly, Harry shows up to train after Louis’ classes are over. More surprisingly, however, is when James walks in not long after they get started.

“Good,” he calls from the front entrance. “You’re both here.”

Louis stops the music, and he and Harry share a nervous look, clear that neither of them have any idea what’s coming.

James walks into the gym, heading straight towards the two of them. 

“So, as you may be aware,” he starts.

_This doesn’t sound good._

“There’s a particular deadline coming up in the taekwondo world.”

Louis definitely doesn’t know what James is talking about, but when he looks over to Harry, it seems like he might.

“After provincials,” James continues. “I think it might be a good thing to consider.”

Harry looks at Louis, then back at James and shakes his head.

“No,” Harry says, voice almost shaking. “I’ll work harder.”

_What’s going on???_

“Does somebody want to explain?” Louis asks, wishing he knew why Harry was reacting the way that he was. 

“I think Harry should change his weight class for the rest of the season,” James answers flatly. 

And _oh._

Louis looks to Harry, who still looks visibly upset by the whole idea. 

“Harry,” Louis says cautiously, thinking it through. “This might be a good idea.”

Harry looks offended that Louis would even consider siding with James. 

“Right now,” Louis goes on to explain his reasoning. “You’re on the heavier end of our weight class, and you know how to use that to your advantage. But I know that you would figure out the advantage of being on the lighter end, too.”

Harry doesn’t say anything. 

“And,” Louis presses on. “We’re both having a pretty good season, don’t you think? So what happens when we fight for gold at nationals but we can’t both go to worlds, anyways?”

Louis just thought of that himself, honestly. Neither him nor Harry had ever made it further than nationals, though they had taken turns getting close. Their first year, they were both knocked out in the preliminaries. The next two years, quarter-finals. The year after that, Louis earned silver while Harry earned bronze, and the next year, the roles reversed. If there was going to be a year for them to both make it to the finals, it was going to be this one. And if they stay in the same weight class, they can’t both win, which means only one of them can represent the country at worlds. 

To Louis, it’s not even a decision. It’s just what he would do, in order to benefit them both. But Harry appears to still be considering. 

“Louis is right,” James nods. “You have to win nationals to move on. And you can’t both win if you’re fighting each other.”

Harry nods, seeming to understand what’s at stake.

“Listen,” James goes on. “If we’re going to make this decision, we need to make it soon.”

_How soon?_

“The deadline is tomorrow night.” 


	6. february

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> harry's birthday. valentine's day. what could happen?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is so so fun so i hope you love it !!!

Everyone gathers in Harry and Niall’s apartment to set up for the party, while Niall takes Harry out for the day. Well, everyone except Louis. He has his own agenda; an errand to run.

Zayn had asked Louis many questions when he proposed his plan, and they all seemed to come back to whether or not Louis thought it was a good idea. And his answer didn’t waver; according to Niall, it should be good. Thanks to Zayn’s line of interrogation, Louis loses a little bit of confidence. But all he can do is hope for the best.

Especially now, given that he’s halfway to the airport, and Harry’s mom and sister will be landing within the next half hour. 

Louis’ fingers drum on the wheel nervously, but still in time with the radio. He tries to keep his focus on driving; aware of the road and the cars and wondering where people are going. When the people ahead of him take the exit towards the airport, too, he wonders if they’re picking people up or jumping on a flight themselves. Are they going home or leaving it? 

In the parking lot, the attendant directs him to an area designated for short visits. Louis is going to go inside to meet them, knowing it would be rude to just wait in his car outside an exit. He finds a spot close to the door and jumps out of the car, checking his phone. The flight should be landing right away. He types out a text to Zayn as he walks.

_Just got here, they should be out soon. What’s the update on Niall and Harry?_

_5:53 pm_

Louis keeps his phone in his hand as he checks for cars before jogging across the road to the door. It buzzes as he walks inside.

_Niall says about 6:30. Are you going to make it before then?_

_5:54 pm_

Louis knows it will be physically impossible to get back to their apartment before then.

_Not a chance_

_5:54 pm_

Zayn responds quickly, asking if he should let Niall know, in the hopes that he could stall Harry a little longer. Louis tells him not to worry about it, then puts his phone away to figure out where he needs to be. He looks up at the signs, pointing to each gate and which way he should be walking. Once he figures it out, he goes and stands in the waiting area, where a few other people are gathered, also waiting for people getting off the plane. Louis confirms with the people around him which flight they’re waiting for, and he knows he’s in the right place. 

Slowly, people start trickling down the escalator after having picked up their baggage. Louis can tell right away who he’s waiting for, when the girl who is undeniably Harry’s sister steps down, followed by her mom. Louis watches as they get closer, scanning the small crowd to find him. He waves when their eyes land on him, and they smile back as they step off the escalator and move towards him. 

“Hi,” he says once they’re close enough. “I’m Louis, let me take that for you Mrs Twist,” he offers his arm to take her bag.

“Thank you, Louis. But you can just call me Anne,” she hands her bag over, then extends her other hand for a polite shake. 

Louis shakes her hand happily, then turns to Harry’s sister.

“I’m Gemma,” she introduces herself. “I feel like you’re the one from lots of the sparring videos Harry sends us.”

“That would probably be me,” Louis laughs, offering outwardly to take her bag as well. 

Gemma politely declines as they start to follow Louis through the airport. 

“Thanks for setting all of this up,” Anne says as they exit the area, leaving the noise behind them. “We haven’t actually seen Harry in a while.” 

“Well,” Gemma starts to explain. “He moved in with our aunt here when he was sixteen to join the team you’re on now, because he knew it was one of the best. And obviously, we couldn’t tell him not to go.”

“Yeah,” Anne agrees. “Back then, he used to visit a lot. But then he got his own place when he turned eighteen, and he started spending all of his time focusing on training. So the visits became more rare, but I couldn’t blame him for that. He’s doing what he loves.”

Louis smiles, knowing they’re right. Harry loves taekwondo and he’s lucky to have people who recognize that. 

“But then,” Gemma’s tone changes as they step outside. “Mom got a new boyfriend, and they didn’t get along right from the start, which slowed the visits even more. He stopped coming for holidays, because he knew Scott would be there, so now we only talk to him on a video call once a week, if that.” 

“I don’t know why he didn’t like Scott,” Anne says.

_Past tense._

“Mom,” Gemma stops her, ending the trail immediately. “What matters is that the two of us are here, thanks to you, Louis. I’m so happy he’s got such a good friend, willing to do all of this for his birthday.”

Louis just nods silently. He didn’t do much, really. He just found their contact information online, then sent them a message in the hopes that they would answer. He set up a time to have a phone call, then Louis suggested they come visit for Harry’s birthday. He booked their flights, told them he’d be willing to switch apartments with Harry while they were here so they could have their own space, then drove to pick them up at the airport. 

It was nothing. 

Louis pops open the trunk of his car to put their bags inside, then walks around to open the back door for Gemma to crawl in, then Anne afterwards. Louis gets into the front seat and checks his phone. Niall and Harry should be getting back any second, and Louis will get there with Harry’s family not long after. He starts the car, and when he looks over his shoulder to check for cars behind him, he catches Gemma smiling up at him with kind eyes. He smiles back, then reverses out of his spot and gets on the road again. 

They ask Louis questions about himself throughout the drive, all of which he answers rather openly. They ask about his life at the gym, and if he works or goes to school, and where he grew up. They ask him all the things that make sense to ask. 

“So, Louis,” Gemma says after a brief stint of silence. “You’re not secretly dating Harry, are you?”

“What?” Louis looks in the rearview mirror. “No.”

“It’s alright if you are. We won’t tell him we know. He’s very…” she trails off. “Secretive about that kind of thing.” 

Louis glances at Anne in the mirror, then back at Gemma, who nods, seeming to clue in at his sudden understanding of why Harry didn’t like Scott. And therefore, why his relationship with his mother may be slightly strained. Louis can only imagine Harry felt somewhat betrayed. 

“Well,” Louis nods sharply. “I can assure you I’m not. Honestly, we’re not even that close. I’m not sure he even considers us friends.”

Gemma laughs, apparently not realizing they’d grown up as genuine rivals of one another.

“He’s delusional, then. This is a pretty nice thing to do for someone who isn’t even a friend.”

Louis just nods and focuses his eyes on the road, not realizing the way he holds the steering wheel just a little bit tighter. 

**

Gemma and Louis bicker jokingly as Anne watches on, all the way up to the apartment when he gets Niall to buzz them in. Louis gets the two of them to stand out of view in the hallway when he knocks on the door. It swings open, and Harry is standing there.

“Oh,” he sounds surprised. “I thought you weren’t coming. Why are you holding suitcases?”

Louis steps inside the apartment to let Anne and Gemma step towards the door. He watches as Harry reacts in real time to seeing his mother and sister standing with open arms.

“Happy birthday, H.”

Harry takes one step forward and wraps them in hugs. Anne holds him tightly, whispering into his hair as they embrace for what’s probably the first time in far too long. It’s like everything Harry could hold against his mother is forgotten for a moment, and all that’s left is the love they have for each other. Harry steps back and wipes at his eyes, pulling himself together to ask how they’re actually standing in his apartment.

“Louis set it up,” Anne tells him quietly, and all eyes in the room turn to him, including Harry’s.

Harry turns around to look at Louis, where he’s now standing just a few feet away, still holding the suitcases. Louis watches as Harry takes a few long strides towards him before wrapping his arms tightly around his body; Harry’s got one arm thrown over his shoulder and the other wrapped around his back. He comes in with such force that Louis stumbles back a little bit, the suitcases not helping him with his balance. Being reminded of the suitcases, he drops them carefully before wrapping his arms around Harry. 

When Harry releases his grip, he looks at Louis and shakes his head slightly.

“All I got you for your birthday was some new trainers…”

“Wait,” Zayn interrupts from beside them. “Those nice new shoes are from Harry?”

“Shut up, Zayn,” Louis says quietly without taking his eyes off Harry, who seems to be searching Louis’ eyes for something. 

“But you brought me something I never could have asked for,” he continues quietly.

Louis feels like Harry is looking right through him. That night on the bathroom floor, Louis felt like he saw Harry for just a moment. It was fleeting, but he felt it. Is that what Harry is feeling now? Perhaps he’s not just looking at Louis, but rather, truly seeing him. 

_Look at me._

_I’m real, too._

“It wasn’t entirely my idea,” Louis answers quietly, unable to handle having Harry’s full attention on him.

“But I guess it turns out it was a good one,” Zayn says.

“Shut up, Zayn,” Harry echoes Louis.

The moment is only broken when Niall carries over a cake with candles that are already lit. Anne and Gemma step fully inside, and everyone starts to sing. Harry finally looks over towards the cake and he smiles at everyone gathering in closer. Niall stops right in front of Harry. 

“Wish for something good,” Louis whispers, remembering what Harry said to him on his own birthday not that long ago.

Harry glances over at Louis quickly upon hearing his words, then looks back at the candles and blows them all out. Everyone claps, and as Gemma and Anne step to Harry’s side once more, Louis can’t help but feel soft at the sight. 

Throughout the rest of the night, Harry floats around the room and chats to everybody but Louis. So Louis keeps himself busy doing the same thing, spending time talking to everyone, including Harry’s family as they ask about certain people and relationships. Louis answers all their questions without feeling left out from everything else. As people start to head out for the night, Louis starts to clean up any garbage left lying around. Once he’s alone, Harry finally approaches him once more. 

“Hey,” he nods. 

“Oh,” Louis stands up from where he was squatting at the coffee table. “Hey.”

“I realized I never actually said thank you,” a shy smile is tugging at his lips. “So, thank you.”

Louis can’t help but laugh. “I think you did, actually,” he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his keys. “Here,” he holds them out for Harry to take. “We’re switching places while they’re here.”

Harry reaches for the keys and Louis pulls back slightly.

“Just,” he pauses. “Don’t break anything,” he hands them over to Harry.

“I owe you one,” Harry says.

“I think those ones are adding up,” Louis jokes, and Harry actually laughs. 

Louis made Harry laugh and he doesn’t stop thinking about it for the rest of the night, as he falls asleep alone in Harry’s bed. 

**

Anne and Gemma get the chance to watch one group training session, giving them the opportunity to see Harry fight live, though it’s certainly in a less competitive setting. Gemma had mentioned he would send sparring videos from competitions every now and then, but they hadn’t come out to see him in a few years. So Harry seemed genuinely excited when James agreed to let them watch their practice. 

James goes over and talks to them while everyone’s doing their run at the start, and Louis can tell it isn’t the first time they’ve met. Though he supposes that makes sense, considering they basically signed Harry away to James when he was only sixteen and not even living here yet. 

Once they’re done running, James lets them stretch on their own as he continues to talk to Harry’s family on the bench. Finally, he returns to take charge and has them set up some target kicking drills. He holds the targets for the three boys, while the girls rotate who’s holding often enough for all of them to kick. They go through many offensive combinations; front leg, rear leg combo, which turns into front leg, rear leg double, before moving on to turning kicks. Afterwards, to work on defensive drills, James tells them to gear up.

Everyone moves to get their chest gear and helmets from their bags on the outer edge of the gym, and Harry stops for some water at his family. 

“My baby got so good,” Anne wraps an arm around his shoulder. 

Harry visibly blushes in embarrassment as he puts his water down and grabs his stuff.

“Thanks, mom,” he smiles, slipping his already tied gear over his head. 

“He was always good,” Gemma punches him lightly in the ribs over his gear. 

“That’s right,” Harry straps on his helmet and walks away at the same time as everyone else. 

The boys rotate in their group of three while the girls partner up for the drills. They keep it light, only motioning the attack so their partner can work on the reaction. Like everything, it takes a long time to fully absorb a new motion into routine, and while this isn’t a new manoeuvre, it is one that none of them have been able to easily integrate into their sparring abilities as of yet. 

After many drills, James sets them up for some free sparring. He explains that they’ll do a full two minute round, but have a longer break than usual while another group goes. Gigi and Lauren start. Everyone watches as they fight seriously. When it’s over, Mackenzie and Natalie fight next, and Louis wonders how long it will be until they consider joining the sparring competition. Both of them only compete in forms, but they’ve been training with the rest of the sparring group for long enough that they would be able to hold their own in the ring. 

Zayn and Harry go first, and Louis is left standing alone to watch. He sees the moment Harry manages to execute it, and the way that James stands up from where he watches on the stacked mats to get an overhead view. 

“Yes, Harry!” James yells. 

Everyone is impressed with the way he pulled off the defensive kick they just spent so much time working on. Louis looks over at Anne and Gemma, who are also on their feet, excited by the match. 

When James calls for them to switch, Louis faces Zayn immediately. 

“What happened to getting a longer break?” Zayn asks. 

“Zayn, your endurance has come a long way but you need to keep pushing it,” James answers bluntly. “Two minutes. Fight hard.”

And Zayn does. Louis is pleased with how it goes, feeling like it’s a real battle, but still remaining calm in the face of Zayn’s new skills. 

When James dismisses them, they do their cheer and head for the locker rooms. Gigi suggests they all go see a late night movie, and as everyone agrees, they look to Harry.

“It’s their last night here,” Harry motions to his family on the bench. “Maybe another time.”

“You can invite them, too,” Gigi offers.

Harry nods and runs over to the bench, reminding Louis of a kid asking permission to hang out with his friends. He returns quickly, and tells everyone that Gemma’s going to come while Anne stays back. So they all shower and get dressed before meeting at the entrance to go through what’s playing in theatres. After finally settling on a nighttime horror movie that gives them enough time to arrive, they head outside.

“Louis,” Anne calls from Harry’s car, where she’s about to get in to be driven back. 

She moves towards him in the parking lot as he jogs over. Louis just accepts when she’s wrapping him into a hug. 

“I’m not sure I’ll see you again before I leave,” she says when she pulls away. “I just wanted to say thank you. And next time, you and Harry need to be coming to visit us,” she smiles.

Louis can’t argue with her. He knows it’s not the time.

“I’ll make sure of it,” he smiles, looking over at Harry and Gemma, who are observing their interaction from afar. 

Anne returns to Harry and steps into the car. As they drive away, Louis thinks he’d like to make good on that promise, but he knows he can’t surprise Harry with a trip to stay somewhere he’s created new associations, past the fond childhood memories, looming into something a little more hurtful.

It’s a difficult line to walk. 

**

At the movie theatre, everyone buys their tickets, waiting for Harry and Gemma to arrive last. Once they’ve shown up and bought tickets, they head into the theatre and take an entire row to themselves, despite there only being a few other people littered throughout. Louis follows Zayn, and watches down the line as everyone takes a seat as they adjust to whoever stopped first on the end. 

Louis sits next to Zayn, then looks to his left to see Harry, and Gemma on Harry’s other side. Quickly, pretending he never noticed, Louis looks back to Zayn, who just leans forward to see what Louis was looking at.

“No,” Zayn says quietly, nodding towards Gigi on his other side. “I’m not switching with you.”

Louis slinks back in his chair, sneaking a quick look at Harry, who’s talking happily to his sister. 

The trailers start, and Louis guesses it can’t be that bad, anyways. It’s just over an hour and a half of sitting next to each other in silence, and that’s it. 

But for Louis, it never seems to be that easy. 

It’s around the halfway point when Louis feels Harry tense up beside him at the scene playing out on the big screen. He doesn’t look over right away, but he feels it; the way his breath intakes sharply, the way his back stiffens, the way his jaw shifts. 

Louis exhales through his nose, then leans over towards Harry’s ear. In response, Harry tilts his head closer, hair brushing against Louis’ nose. 

“H,” he whispers. “It’s all pretend in the movie, just like it was pretend for you, yeah?” 

Louis is so close, he can feel Harry nodding. And then Harry’s pinky finger overlaps Louis’ own on the armrests, and Louis leans back in his seat, looking down at their hands. Harry glances over quickly, nervously, and Louis looks up to meet his eye, smiling softly, telling him _it’s okay._

If Louis can provide the little bit of comfort Harry needs right now, he’s fine with doing so, just like he did the first time when he spent the night. 

Louis can feel Zayn’s eyes on him, so he turns his head to look at him. He can see Zayn’s gaze shift down to their hands, still touching but just barely, and Louis doesn’t look back down at them because he doesn’t need to; he knows they’re still there.

“Hey, Louis,” he says carefully. “What the fuck is going on?” 

Louis just shakes his head slightly, before leaning in a little bit closer to whisper, “I think we’re almost friends.”

Zayn pulls his face away to look at Louis incredulously, but doesn’t say anything. Louis just turns his attention back to the screen, and doesn’t look away again; not even when Harry adjusts his pinky on Louis’ later. 

At the end of the movie, when the lights go up, Harry quickly removes his hand from Louis’. He stands up and stretches out, and Louis can’t help but see the way his shirt rides up over his waist. He notices a freckle on his hip he never had before, and then it disappears as Harry pulls his shirt back down. Has it always been there? Is it new? 

Louis shakes the vision of a soft freckle placed so carefully on an even softer waist as he stands up, following Harry out of the row. Everyone heads out together and says goodnight and goodbye to Gemma. She thanks Louis one last time, giving him a hug just as her mother had earlier. 

“Friends with the family now, huh?” Zayn asks as they walk towards their cars. 

“Maybe,” Louis laughs. “They seem to like me, I guess.”

“Yeah, and Harry seems to not hate you.”

“Hmm?”

“Louis,” Zayn laughs loudly, knowing Harry is gone after watching him drive out of the parking lot. “He basically held your hand through half the movie.”

“No,” Louis argues. “It was literally one finger.”

“And yet somehow that actually makes it flirtier.”

“No,” Louis denies again. “He was just, well, I don’t know. I don’t want to say scared. But reminded of that stupid haunted house we went to, where he was singled out and targeted all night.”

“Right,” Zayn nods along. “And then you slept with him after.”

“Next to him,” Louis corrects sharply. 

“Whatever. I’ll let that one slide, alright? But tonight,” Zayn throws his arms up. “His sister was right next to him. You don’t think she could have comforted her little brother if it was really that bad?”

That shuts Louis up. Zayn is right. What kind of game is Harry playing? 

“Hey,” Zayn snaps him out of it. “I know what you’re thinking. You’re deflecting right now, but I think you need to actually sit down and really take a long, hard look at the way your relationship has gone in the last little while.”

“Z, I love you,” Louis prefaces. “But why do you care so much?” 

Zayn stares at him for a moment. 

“Because I think you could be really happy, Louis,” he says with a straight face. 

_But you’ll never really be happy._

“And I don’t want you to be the one who takes that opportunity away from yourself.”

**

“Let’s go!” Louis yells at his group of black belt preparation students.

They’re doing sprints and hating every minute of it, and Louis would expect nothing less. It’s the last class of the day before his own individual training session with James. He hasn’t had one in a while, so he’s actually looking forward to it. 

James walks in just before Louis dismisses his students, and they all bow politely as they leave. Louis waits in the gym, already dressed and ready to start. When James joins him, he looks like he’s ready to ruin Louis’ day. 

“We’re not doing stairs, are we?” 

Louis doesn’t necessarily hate doing them, but he does hate doing them alone. It’s much easier to push yourself when there’s other people doing the same thing. Hearing everyone running up and down makes the sound of your own footsteps and heartbeat seem to quiet down. 

“No,” James laughs. “I still want to keep it a little lighter on your ankle. Now that we have more time before the next competition, it can have a chance to fully heal.”

Louis hates being treated like he’s fragile. He knows James is right, and he should let it heal before pushing anything, but he doesn’t want to be left out of training or fall behind anyone else. 

“Relax, Louis,” James reads his body language. “You don’t have to feel so on edge, anymore. Now that Harry’s changed divisions, there’s not that added level of competition among you.”

Louis hates that James is right _again._ He also kind of hates that Harry isn’t in his division anymore. Since he showed up, he’s always been right there, fighting alongside and against Louis. There hasn’t been a single year they haven’t had to battle it out at a tournament. But Louis didn’t lie to Harry that day; he does think it’s a good idea. They both have a great raw point score this season, and it only makes sense for them to do what gives them both the best shot of making it to worlds. 

The only thing Louis can do is suck it up. So he does the drills James asks of him and doesn’t push too hard. It’s the tough, frustrating times that really make the fighter, so Louis chooses the kind of fighter he wants to be. 

**

Liam sends a text to the group chat, asking if they want to meet up at his bar, since it’s his day off. Unsurprisingly, they all agree, and they’re squeezed into a booth not even an hour later. 

“So,” Liam asks, dipping a nacho into their concoction of dips. “What are your guys’ plans for Valentine’s day?” 

Louis forgot that was coming up. Rather, forgot that was even a thing, really. He can’t remember the last time he was on a date; has to count the years it’s been since he attempted to maintain a relationship. 

“I’m going bar hopping with some boys from work,” Niall offers first.

“Oh, you’re gonna be those guys,” Zayn laughs, then shares his own plans, “I’m taking Gigi out for dinner.”

“Fancy,” Harry smiles. “I’ll be making dinner and enjoying an empty apartment for the night,” he nudges Niall, who nudges him harder right back in mock offense. 

“What about you, Louis?” Zayn asks, looking over as if to dare him to say something.

But Louis doesn’t know what that _something_ is exactly, so he just shrugs.

“I might get some training in. Do some work. I don’t know yet.”

“Boo,” Liam drawls, which catches on until everyone is booing him and flicking nacho toppings in Louis’ general direction. 

“Take an entire day off for once,” Zayn says. 

Louis tells him he’ll think about it.

**

Louis thought about it. And he decided not to listen to Zayn. 

Valentine’s day is just another day in the year. There really isn’t anything special about it. But Louis lets himself sleep in, as a little treat for himself. Then he gets busy on his laptop, catching up on contracts and inquiries for the gym. He takes a break for lunch, then gets right back to it until he’s done. He realizes he’s on a roll for the day, so he decides to take a bath and allow his muscles to soak. 

While he’s in the tub scrolling through his phone, he glances at his delivery driving app, and without thinking twice, he opens it to see if he can still pick up a shift for the night. What better time to make money than when couples are getting together, all loved up but not wanting to go out. So he secures an evening spot before putting his phone down and scrubbing himself clean. 

Louis prepares himself a small snack in the late afternoon, putting off an actual dinner until after he gets home for the night. Around the time he scheduled himself to start, he waits by his phone for a delivery request. Once the first one pops up, he accepts it immediately and grabs his keys to head out the door. 

For a couple of hours, the rush doesn’t stop. As soon as one delivery is done, he’s requested for another. He makes polite conversation with everyone who orders in, whether it be singles, couples or an entire family. The money rolls in nicely, and he thanks his earlier self for coming to the conclusion that this would be a good way to spend his evening. 

It’s just after eight o’clock that he almost regrets it.

An all too familiar address pops up, and he thinks about denying the request. He could pass it off to somebody else, and it would be like he never saw it. Except he did, and he won’t be able to forget that he did. So he begrudgingly presses accept and makes the drive to the restaurant the order is coming from. 

Once he picks up the food, a malicious thought crosses his mind, in which he just doesn’t show up. He just finds a different apartment and hands it off, saying it’s already been paid for, because that much is true. If he gets called out, he can just say he got the address wrong. 

But the thought doesn’t last long in his brain as he continues on the route he’s grown to remember, despite wishing he had never learned it in the first place. 

He parks in visitor parking but doesn’t register his vehicle, knowing he won’t be long. He grabs the pizza box off the front seat, then heads towards the front entrance. Once he’s in the first door, he pulls out his phone to check the dial code he doesn’t know by heart. Louis scrolls through his messages quickly and punches in the code with the same hand once he finds it. 

There’s no answer on the intercom, but he’s buzzed in after a few rings. He takes the elevator up, then looks both ways, unable to recall which direction he needs to go. So he makes a choice that just happens to be right. He knocks on apartment 305 and waits for the door to open. 

“Louis,” Nick says calmly. “Tell me why I’m not surprised it’s you bringing me dinner.”

Louis laughs half-heartedly. Anything to limit the amount of actual talking. 

“Why are you working tonight, anyways? Shouldn’t you be with Harry?”

At the first question, Louis can understand the logic, and is more than fine answering bluntly. But the second question throws him for a loop.

“Excuse me?” 

Nick just looks at him as if it’s obvious. 

“We’re not together,” Louis states directly. 

“Well then why did he break up with me?”

_He broke up with you???_

Louis shouldn’t be surprised, but he is. With the things Harry tolerated from Nick, Louis wasn’t sure he would ever be the one to break things off. How much worse could he get? What could push Harry past the breaking point? When Harry showed up without Nick for the first time at New Years, Louis had just assumed Nick broke up with him. And yes, maybe Louis had assumed he had something to do with it, after their conversation on Christmas Eve. 

But Harry broke up with Nick. He finally had enough of being mistreated, and he walked away. 

“I don’t know,” Louis hands over the pizza box. “Maybe because you were kind of a dick.”

Nick grabs the pizza, taking it from Louis’ hands.

“So if you’re not dating him…” Nick muses. “I could still win him back.”

“That is,” Louis shakes his head, unable to believe what he’s hearing. “Not at all what I said.” 

“Well,” Nick just shrugs. “It’s worth a shot. Maybe I’ll go see him tonight.”

_No, it isn’t. Don’t do that._

“Here, let me grab you some cash,” Nick changes the subject, stepping back inside.

“Keep it!” Louis calls over his shoulder, already speed walking down the hallway towards the stairs.

As Louis moves quickly down the stairs, he pulls out his phone and declines his next order. He signals the end of his shift on the app, because he’s done for the night. He gets right back into his car and makes another familiar drive, but with a completely different feeling. And when he gets there, he punches in the dial code that his fingers have grown to memorize. Finally, when Harry buzzes him in, Louis doesn’t need to look both ways; he knows exactly where he’s going. 

“What’s going on?” Harry asks as he answers the door. “Why do you seem so…” he can’t find the word to finish his question, but Louis understands, anyways. 

“You’re going to want to get out of your apartment for the night,” Louis tells him. 

“Come inside,” Harry gestures. “I’m so confused.” 

Louis steps inside, only then realizing he doesn’t have any sort of plan. He just kind of showed up and is hoping for the best. 

“Are you hungry?” Harry asks. 

Louis shakes his head, not really listening. 

“Okay,” Harry continues. “Are you going to explain anything?”

“Yeah,” Louis focuses again. “I made a delivery to Nick and long story short, he mentioned coming over to try to win you back,” he grimaces, hoping Harry doesn’t ask for more details.

“And I know it’s not like you can avoid him forever if he does try,” Louis goes on. “But I just figured if I could prevent it tonight, it’s a win for the day.”

Harry doesn’t say anything, but looks like he’s thinking about it, appearing extremely contemplative.

“So,” he says finally. “You heard that, and then decided to come over here?”

Louis nods. Harry seems to be all caught up. 

“Alright,” Harry shrugs knowingly. “So what do you want to do then?”

“Hmm?”

“Well, you’re the one who said I should get out of the apartment. So where are we going, then?”

Louis definitely didn’t think that far ahead. In his mind, this is as far as he got. 

“How about ice skating?” He suggests excitedly, deciding that if it’s him who gets to choose, he’s going to take the opportunity to do something he enjoys, especially with this particular companion. 

Harry looks unsure. Louis thinks it’s probably because it’s just the two of them. 

“I guess,” Harry looks down. “I don’t own skates, though.”

“We’ll rent them,” Louis brushes it off casually, not thinking anything of it. “Don’t worry.”

**

“Oh my god,” Louis laughs, as he glides out onto the ice, while Harry airs on the side of caution, taking small steps with the blades on his feet. “You don’t know how to skate.”

Harry shoots him a quick glare, but then looks right back down to his feet to recover the balance it costs him. 

Louis skates in circles around him.

“Harry Styles,” he says dramatically. “Professional athlete, grade-A asshole,” he says with a smile when he’s in front of Harry, so he can see he’s mostly joking. “Doesn’t know how to skate.” 

“Shut up,” Harry mumbles, still staring down at his feet. 

If they were going to do this any night, this was certainly be a good one: the weather is nice but the outdoor rink isn’t too crowded at this hour, couples everywhere still out for dinner. 

“Alright,” Louis halts sharply in front of Harry. “Keep your head up.”

Harry stops moving and looks up at Louis. 

“Good,” Louis smiles. “Now, come on, then.”

He puts his gloved hands out for Harry to take for balance. Harry glances down at them hesitantly, before putting his own gloved hands in Louis’. Louis skates backwards, pulling Harry along with him. 

“Alright now, just push off and glide,” he instructs, watching the way Harry’s feet move. 

Harry remains nervous, but loosens up with each movement. As much as Louis would love to make fun of him forever for not knowing how, Louis is confident that Harry could walk away from the rink later just as good a skater as he is. 

“That’s better,” he smiles, noticing as Harry gets more comfortable. 

Slowly, Louis backs off, giving Harry the space to skate on his own. Around them, couples whiz by, holding hands, smiling and laughing, leaning in for stolen kisses as they continue to skate.

And here’s Louis, completely alone but also not, as he teaches Harry to skate, watching him glide towards him, seeing the moment he trips himself up, and feeling the weight of him in his arms he wasn’t expecting.

And then there’s Harry and Louis, on the ice. Harry, on top of Louis, bodies pressed together. They stay silent for a moment, eyes wide open, feeling the sudden warmth the other is providing them. 

Louis puts his hands on Harry’s shoulders and pushes up lightly. 

“Get off me, you klutz,” he laughs. 

“Yeah,” Harry scrambles to the open ice where he can put his hands down to get up. “Sorry.” 

Louis is able to stand up faster than Harry, so he offers a hand to get him back on his feet. Harry takes it with less hesitation than the first time. Louis pulls him up and they continue their lap slowly, as Harry continues to adjust. 

“Hey,” Louis says, looking over at Harry.

“Hey,” Harry echoes, waiting for Louis to say what’s on his mind. 

Louis decides there’s no need to beat around it. 

“Was it you who ended things with Nick?”

Harry takes a moment to slow down, allowing himself to look up at Louis.

“Yeah.”

“Then why,” Louis laughs. “Why did you give me so much shit about it on New Years?”

“I think we already had that conversation,” Harry says quietly, looking back down at the ice. 

_Because sometimes I don’t feel real._

Louis just nods, understanding. 

“Okay,” Harry says. “Why didn’t you like him?”

Louis’ mind flashes back to the first time Harry asked him that, not long after he started seeing Nick. He remembers not knowing yet, honestly telling Harry he hadn’t decided yet. But after a couple months of witnessing them together, Louis decided. 

“Did you hear the way he talked to you? I’m sure you must have if you broke up with him,” Louis answers, as if it’s obvious.

“Right, okay,” Harry nods. “But you could have taken his side.”

Louis thinks about it for a moment. 

“No, it’s different,” he shakes his head adamantly. “It’s different when I talk shit.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“How?”

Louis pauses.

“I haven’t decided yet.”

**

They skate around together a little while longer, Harry continuing to get better, just as Louis anticipated. The longer they go, the more Louis’ stomach starts to growl, reminding him he hadn’t eaten dinner earlier; his plan had been to eat after finishing his shift, and this excursion didn’t fall into that timeline.

“Hey, Harry,” he says, after a particularly loud stomach noise.

“Let me guess,” Harry laughs. “Now you’re hungry?”

“Yeah,” Louis admits, a little embarrassed. “Want to go get dinner?” 

The words are out of Louis’ mouth before he even has time to think about it; the implications of going out for dinner with just Harry on this specific day. But Harry doesn’t seem to think about it too much, either.

“Yeah.” 

They get out of their skates and walk over to a nearby restaurant, putting themselves on a waitlist for a table. The hostess tells them it shouldn’t be long, but neither of them are concerned. They sit patiently in the entrance area, complete silence between them. 

Louis looks around at a few of the other couples in the waiting area, who also didn’t have reservations. He wonders if it was a choice or if one partner may be a little annoyed. Or maybe some of them are like him and Harry, not even together at all. Then, he looks over at Harry, and wonders if he’s thinking the same things. 

Once there’s a few more tables cleared up, the hostess calls out: “for Tomlinson?” 

The two of them stand up and walk over, following her to the booth she leads them to. 

“Thank you,” they both say as she drops their menus and lets them know their server will be over soon. 

“Alright,” Harry says, opening his menu. “What are you feeling like having?” 

Louis looks around at everyone nearby who already has food on their tables, noticing a common factor.

“Well,” Louis closes his menu. “I think it would be a shame if we didn’t order the heart shaped pizza. It would most definitely ruin the kitchen’s flow if we ordered something else.”

Harry glances around, then agrees easily. 

“Alright, so what kind of pizza?”

And it’s still Louis and Harry, so it couldn’t be that easy. They end up bickering over what toppings should go on their pizza, inching dangerously towards argument territory when their server finally nears. They may be getting along better lately, for reasons Louis still can’t see, but he also recognizes there’s still times when things can very easily cross over the line of playfulness, creeping towards something a little more serious. 

“Hello, how are you tonight?”

“Good, thanks,” Harry smiles. “How are you?”

“I’m alright, thanks,” she smiles back.

“Any plans for after your shift?” Louis asks politely.

“Not this year,” she laughs. “What can I grab for you guys?” She asks, pulling out a pen and notepad. 

“Well, for drinks,” Harry says, though they hadn’t even discussed what they were drinking. 

He proceeds to order a beer for himself and a cocktail for Louis, taking him by surprise. Somehow, he knew. He continues on to order their compromise pizza, in which they each got to choose one topping that the other didn’t totally hate, and agreed on a third. She jots everything down and lets them know she’ll return shortly with their drinks. 

Louis excuses himself to use the washroom and washes his hands before their food comes. He looks at himself in the mirror as he does, suddenly feeling like none of this is actually happening. He didn’t go skating with Harry, and he’s not here in the restaurant with him right now.

_Is this what Harry means by not feeling real?_

He snaps out of it and rinses the soap from his hands before drying them off and heading back to their table. As soon as he sits down, Harry’s phone starts to vibrate. He apologizes quickly as he pulls it out to silence it, but makes a face when he looks at the screen. 

“Who is it?”

Harry turns his phone around to show Louis the name painted across the screen. 

“Hand it over,” Louis brightens up, and Harry obliges. 

“Hello?” He says into the phone as he answers, before deciding to put it on speaker and turning the volume down, holding the phone between them.

They both lean in over the table to hear.

“Louis?” Nick asks, sounding confused.

“Yeah,” Louis says casually, not bothering to address his reason for confusion. “Can I help you?”

Harry quickly covers his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“I thought you said-”

“Doesn’t mean it was true,” Louis cuts him off. “Where are you right now?”

Nick stays silent on the other end.

“Oh,” Louis nods for the sake of Harry’s entertainment, who hasn’t been able to collect himself and stop giggling across from Louis. “You’re standing in his building.”

When Nick starts to say something, Louis interrupts once more.

“Don’t call him again,” he says seriously. “Don’t try to visit. Don’t do anything, really. He doesn’t want it. Just leave him alone,” he tells him, then adds for good measure, “Leave us alone.”

Louis moves the phone closer to Harry so he can speak.

“Goodbye, Nick,” is all he says, putting an end to the call as Louis hangs up. 

With the phone still between them, the two of them look up at each other. Louis pinches his lips together to stop the smile from spreading on his face at the mere sight of Harry’s own, though it disappears when he notices Louis’ face. It’s only then Louis realizes they’re both still leaning in over the table, their faces just inches apart. 

How easy it would be. 

The server comes around the corner with their drinks, then apologizes profusely as they jump apart when she sets them down, thinking she must have interrupted some sort of moment. Louis assures her it’s alright and thanks her as she leaves, then goes to take a sip of his drink, not wanting to be the first to say anything again. 

“So,” Harry says, setting his beer back down on the table. “I may need you to do that any time an ex is being,” he waves his hand through the air. “Like that.”

“Right,” Louis nods. 

“Okay.” 

Usually, when they train together, the silence is fine. But it’s almost like Harry can’t handle it in this context. 

“So you managed to learn about my family complications.”

Louis takes a sip of his drink at the reminder.

“So what about you? How did you end up spending Christmas with me?” 

After one more sip of his drink, Louis decides he has nothing to lose by telling Harry about his family. So he does. 

“Man,” Harry sits back, after listening intently to everything Louis had to say. “I thought homophobic boyfriend was as bad as it could get,” he laughs softly, lightening the air before adding more seriously, “I’m sorry, Louis.” 

Louis just shrugs it off as if it isn’t a big deal. Truthfully, he’s managed to mostly detach himself from the entire situation; it’s a major part of why he still lives alone. Once he decided he needed that space, he knew he had to commit. It reminds him of the sacrifice he made for himself. 

Just as things go silent again, the server comes by with their pizza. 

“Anything else for now?” She asks as she places the plate between them, bottom of the heart pointing towards Harry. 

“I think we’re alright, thank you,” Harry smiles, and she tells them to enjoy before disappearing again, flitting around to her other tables. 

“This looks…”

“Interesting,” Harry finishes Louis’ thought before picking up a slice and taking a bite. “Not terrible.”

Louis laughs as he picks up his own slice. They eat in silence until there’s only one piece left.

“It’s yours,” Harry offers. 

Louis counters that Harry can have it if he wants, but Harry argues that Louis was the one who was hungry in the first place, so if he’s still hungry, he should eat it. Louis suggests they simply share it, to which Harry agrees. As Louis reaches for the untouched cutlery beside him, Harry reaches for the pizza slice. He takes a bite, then puts it back down on the plate, gesturing to Louis.

“No need to dirty the utensils,” he says, food still in his mouth, so Louis can’t help but laugh as Harry swallows his bite, and suddenly they’re both laughing. 

Louis finishes the piece, feeling satisfied. 

Their server comes over and picks up the plate along with the untouched utensils, before telling them she’ll be right back with their dessert.

“We didn’t order dessert,” Louis tells her. 

“No,” she smiles. “But every heart shaped pizza comes with a free shareable desert.”

Louis looks to Harry, who just nods. She smiles and disappears again. 

When she returns, she’s holding a much smaller plate and carrying two small dessert spoons. They thank her as she places the warm chocolate brownie covered in ice cream between them. 

Harry quickly grabs a spoon and leans over the table to break off a piece. As Louis reaches for the other spoon, Harry smacks his hand away gently. Louis just looks up at him, drawing his eyebrows. 

“Don’t dirty it,” Harry smirks, then leans in closer and holds out his spoon towards Louis’ mouth. 

Louis just stares at him for a moment before slowly opening his mouth and allowing Harry to feed him. He closes his lips around the spoon, relishing in the taste as he continues to watch Harry curiously, noticing how his eyes are trained on Louis’ mouth. 

“Good?” Harry asks, taking another piece and putting it into his own mouth. 

“Mmhmm,” Louis says, still allowing it to melt together on his tongue. 

They take turns having bites, Louis feeling less weird about it every time Harry guides the spoon across the table to feed him. When they finish, they slide their plate towards the edge of the table for their server to take. As she does, she asks if they need anything else, and when Harry shakes his head, Louis tells her to bring over the bill whenever she has a free second. 

Harry reaches for his wallet and Louis calls him out immediately.

“I’ve got it,” Louis insists, reaching for his own wallet. 

Louis checks his phone, and realizes he could still be driving and making money. Instead, he’s here with Harry, spending the little bit of money he did make on a meal they shared. And he realizes he doesn’t mind. 

Harry opens his mouth to say something, but Louis puts his hand up.

“I know, I know,” he laughs lightly. “You owe me one.”

Louis pays and then drives Harry home. Harry spends half the drive flipping through Louis’ music in the passenger seat, as if he belongs there. 

“Thanks for the ride,” he says, when Louis pulls up to the front of his building to let him out.

“Thanks for tonight,” Louis counters. “I had fun.”

Harry pauses. “So did I.”

“You had to think about it,” Louis quips. 

“Goodnight, Louis,” he puts his hand on the door and starts to push it closed. 

“Goodnight, Harry.”

Harry closes the door and turns around to walk away, but stops abruptly, turning back around. Louis rolls down his window as Harry comes closer again. 

“Niall isn’t coming home tonight,” he starts. “And I don’t want to be alone. Come inside?” 

Ten minutes later, they’re sitting on Harry’s couch, trying to decide on a movie. 

“You’re telling me you actually like these cheesy rom coms?” 

“Shut up,” Harry jokes. “Sometimes you just need a good cry.”

“Ugh,” Louis groans. “But not tonight, right?”

“No,” Harry laughs. “Not tonight.”

So they settle on something more funny than sad. Yet somehow, Harry still ends up trying to cover up the fact that he’s crying. It works for a little while, and Louis doesn’t notice. Then, even when he does, he pretends not to for some time. But eventually, it becomes hard to ignore and pretend it isn’t happening.

“Haz,” Louis looks over, finally seeing the way tears are brimming at Harry’s eyes. “What's wrong?”

_Haz?_

Louis thinks he must have heard Gemma call him that at some point and it just stuck in his mind without realizing. 

Harry doesn’t even look over, just shakes his head as he continues to stare at the screen. Ironically, the motion is what forces the tears to fall, making it even more obvious something is wrong. 

“Harry,” Louis says seriously, causing Harry to finally look over. 

Louis couldn’t say for sure who moves first. 

All he knows is that he ends up with Harry’s head in his lap, soothing him with light fingers tracing through his hair. Every touch feels forgiving. 

It comes out in a whisper, so faint Louis almost misses it.

“It isn’t my fault.”

Louis doesn’t say anything in response, not sure if he even should.

“Tell me it isn’t my fault,” Harry pleads. 

Without a shred of an idea what Harry is talking about, Louis reassures him it isn’t his fault. 

Louis couldn’t say for sure who falls asleep first. 

**

As per James’ insistence, Louis falls into the habit of going for a daily swim to maintain his endurance while he’s still not running. Also at James’ discretion, he makes a visit to his regular sports medicine doctor, who takes a look at his ankle and tells him it’s still slightly inflamed, but it should be set for nationals next month if he stays off it for the rest of February. Louis hates it, but he can do it. 

So he swims at the rec centre and stretches at the dojang. When they have training sessions, he sits himself out and does his own thing. When he’s teaching classes, he has other students demonstrate the skill or technique they’re working on. It grows to become a routine; one he doesn’t necessarily love, but one with which he becomes comfortable. 

“Alright, guys,” they gather around James at the end of their intense warm-up.

Everyone is flushed and sweaty from pushing themselves, except for Louis.

“The month is almost over,” he looks pointedly at Louis. “So let’s keep working hard.”

But to Louis, he’s saying, _keep working hard at not working hard._

He talks to them for a little while about nationals, mostly for Lauren, who has never been there. Once everyone has caught their breath, he gets Zayn and Mackenzie to perform their individual freestyles to show everyone what they’ve been working on. Their routines are yet to be perfected, but that’s only because they’re pushing the physical limit on the tricks. 

Everyone else sits on the sidelines, and suddenly, Louis isn’t so alone anymore. 

They all cheer along as they go through their routines, the rest of the team not having seen them yet. Every motion is a brand new surprise, and it’s exciting to watch, despite the small crowd. At nationals, Louis knows it will be absolutely exhilarating. 

Once they finish, Lauren asks if they can do their team routine, and Zayn tells her they haven’t finished choreographing it yet, but it will be done by the end of the month. James moves them right along and pushes them into sparring groups, and Louis is left to be the only one watching again.

He’s zoned out completely when James dismisses them and doesn’t even realize they’re all walking over to the locker rooms. He gets up from the ground and joins them, Zayn throwing an arm around his shoulder as comfort he knows Louis appreciates. They all get dressed and head out together, and Louis just listens in on the conversations and the laughter that comes with it.

“You good?” Zayn asks as they get into his car, already warm from when he started it while inside. 

“Yeah,” Louis smiles, feeling abnormally emotional over his team. “Yeah.”

Zayn invites him over, so Louis spends the night with him and Liam, still feeling warm inside. 

**

“Faster, Alex!” Louis yells from where he’s sitting on the mats while the juniors work on some speed kicking.

He watches as Alex winces, but pushes herself to kick faster, still desperate to keep up with Ava in any area she falls behind her. Louis knows from his own experience, that calling on either benefits the both of them: the one being called on will think they’re not doing as well, and the one not being called on will think Louis’ attention is only on the other.

It’s a little bit vicious, but Louis spent years being the target of this strategy, so unfortunately, he knows it works. 

He pairs them off to focus on footwork and watches the interactions between Alex and Ava. They go from working in complete silence, to bitterly correcting the other when they misstep. Louis hopes he does his job well enough to eventually bring them together fully. No jealousy, no resentment; just mutual support for their teammate. 

_Oh._

Does Louis subconsciously blame James for his weird relationship with Harry? 

No.

Or maybe he does, but not the recent developments of genuine friendship. Is that what it is? Maybe they’re just finally seeing they can be allies, instead of rivals. 

No.

James is not to blame for any aspect of their relationship. 

So Louis shakes the thought away and decides it isn’t his job to make Alex and Ava friends. It’s their job, and all he can do is supervise and gently nudge them in the right direction. 

**

The first day they don’t have a group training session after Louis’ classes, Harry shows up.

Immediately, Louis can’t help but feel a little bit nervous. Though he’s been alone with Harry since hurting his ankle, this is the exact context in which he hurt it in the first place. And now that he’s so close to recovery, doing so well at staying off it, he doesn’t want to risk it all. 

“Hey,” Harry says casually as he walks into the gym. 

“Hey.”

Harry starts to jog laps, and as soon as Louis gets up from where he’s sitting to walk into the box office, Harry stops.

“What are you doing? You’re not running.” 

Louis just shakes his head at Harry, assuring him he’s not planning on it. 

“Okay,” Harry continues his run.

Louis sits in the box office to check the studio’s system and input the attendance from the day, as well as notes on what they practiced. He goes through the profiles of his black belt prep students, to check notes James left when they were lower belt levels. 

“Louis!” Harry calls, waiting for Louis to look up through the window. “Can you hold targets?”

Louis rolls his eyes, but closes the tablet, anyways. He goes out to meet Harry, taking the targets from him and asking what he wants to work on. Harry lets him know, and Louis positions himself to hold properly. They cycle through a few drills, and it’s during a particularly rapid sequence that Harry stops, dropping himself into a squat. 

Louis hopes he isn’t seriously injured.

“You okay?” He asks, voice panicked. 

“Yeah,” Harry bounces from a squat position to standing, and back to a squat. “Just pulled a muscle.”

“Did you even stretch?”

Harry shoots him a look. 

“No, Louis. Thanks, though, maybe next time I’ll think to do that.”

Louis doesn’t love the sarcasm, though he can acknowledge it may be somewhat merited by such a question.

“I’ll go get the roller,” he mutters as he walks away, not wanting to deal with Harry’s attitude. 

He steps back into the box office, reaching under the desk for the foam roller they keep on hand for this exact situation. He takes a moment to watch through the glass as Harry lays himself on the ground, extends his legs and rolls his hips side to side. Louis walks back out and moves towards Harry, who sits up when he realizes Louis is coming back. 

“Here,” Louis extends it out to Harry from where he’s standing over him. 

Harry takes it with both hands and Louis watches as he struggles to roll it over his own leg.

“It’s your quad?” 

Harry just nods. 

Louis had assumed it was a hamstring, which is much easier to roll out on your own, only needing to essentially sit on the foam and place your hands on the floor behind you, rocking back and forth. With a quad, it’s difficult to lay on your front, and equally as hard to apply the pressure required when sitting and using your hands to roll it. 

“Here,” Louis sighs, reaching out for Harry to hand him the foam roller back, which he does without question. 

With the foam roller out of his hands, Harry puts his hands on the ground behind him so he can lean back with support. Louis kneels down beside him, placing the roller on his leg and attempting to push it down and roll. Harry barely even flinches, which means it isn’t working. 

Louis stops what he’s doing and looks at Harry. He keeps his eyes locked with Harry’s as he adjusts, silently making sure it’s alright. When Harry doesn’t protest, Louis swings his inside leg over Harry’s, straddling his hurt quad at the knee. He starts gently, rolling with consistent pace and pressure. Slowly, he starts exerting more force as he rolls towards Harry, using all of his weight and sinking his hips down in the process. 

Harry grimaces, closing his eyes. Louis knows it’s working. 

He continues like that, lifting his weight as he pulls towards him, and sitting it down as he pushes away. Louis can tell Harry is in pain; he can feel his muscles flexing and his shallow breath. But he isn’t going to stop until Harry says. So it goes. 

Louis keeps his eyes locked on Harry, observing his every movement. He watches as his head tilts back, and sees the lump in his throat as he swallows hard. He notices the way he licks his lips naturally afterwards. 

_Huh._

Louis keeps watching. He feels the way Harry’s leg twitches beneath him.

_Could he be thinking…_

_No._

_Right?_

Louis tries to shake the thought away and focus on relieving the pain in Harry’s sore muscle. 

_It’s not possible._

But then Louis closes his eyes, too. His mind flashes back to Harry feeding him dessert and then eating off the same spoon, and the way he cried in his lap later. He thinks about how it felt being held by Harry in bed when he just couldn’t get warm, and the instant warmth he was provided when Harry’s small finger overlapped his own in the dark movie theatre. He remembers the way Harry kissed him in the hallway, just to piss him off, but how that anger translated into a sort of passion. 

_Huh._

Louis keeps his eyes squeezed shut, trying to shake the images away as he continues with the rhythm he’s created. Harry clears his throat, interrupting his laboured breathing, as he attempts to cross his other leg over the one Louis is currently straddling at the shin. 

Momentarily, Louis opens his eyes, which turns out to be a mistake. He has to think of something else to distract himself from the current vision of Harry, head thrown back and mouth slightly open, that will likely follow him to bed later. 

Louis closes his eyes again, and the next time he opens them, they land right on Harry’s. It’s as if the simple act of their eyes meeting is enough to snap Harry out of whatever sequence was just playing out.

“Get off of me,” Harry jerks away suddenly, rotating his hips to get out from underneath Louis.

Louis scrambles away as fast as he can. 

“Sorry,” he says automatically, though he isn’t even sure what for. 

“That’s enough training for today, anyways,” Harry jumps to his feet, blatantly ignoring Louis’ apology. “Go home and rest your ankle.”

Louis can only watch as Harry makes his way to the locker room and pushes the door open aggressively, letting it swing shut behind him. After a moment of sitting in silence, he stands up and moves to the box office. He manages to change his clothes, collect his things, and walk out before Harry even leaves the locker room. 

He thinks maybe he should go check on him to see if he’s alright. 

He keeps walking. 

**

Louis finds himself in a situation he never would have envisioned; at Harry and Niall’s apartment, with the two of them in addition to Liam. Zayn has plans with Gigi, which is why he isn’t there, but it feels weird without him.

Zayn had always been the buffer, or the one that tied the whole group together; he was Louis’ best friend, and actually friends with Harry, whose roommate is Niall, and then his own roommate, Liam. Without Zayn, that connection almost feels lost, where Louis is just hanging out with his best friend’s roommate, his teammate and his teammate’s roommate. 

But yet, Louis finds himself comfortable. He still has a good time, and they laugh over dinner. He learns more about Liam and Niall, which provides him the feeling of an additional layer of closeness. 

“This might be the best friend group I’ve ever had,” Niall laughs. 

_Yeah._

Louis mentally agrees, which leads him to wonder why it hasn’t always been like this. 

_Because me and Harry, that’s why._

He looks over at Harry, who avoids his eye. He hasn’t so much as looked at Louis since the night with the foam roller. Louis actually wishes he would just say something. 

At the end of the night, Harry is the one who offers to drive Louis home, since Zayn dropped him off on his way to pick up Gigi. Louis reluctantly agrees, nervous to be alone with Harry again. 

They sit in silence most of the way, until it’s too much to bear for Louis. 

“Hey, are we-”

“Don’t,” Harry interrupts, only looking over at Louis when he adds, “please.” 

Louis just nods and turns to look out the window. He isn’t sure how they ended up like this again, but he supposes it’s been worse. 

Harry pulls into the parking lot of Louis’ building, and Louis basically jumps out of the car, eager to leave the weird silence. 

“Thanks.” 

Harry just nods as Louis closes the door behind him. Louis looks at Harry through the window for just a moment longer, before turning around and walking towards the front entrance. 

Home. Alone. Just how he spent years convincing himself he likes it. 


	7. march

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> nationals.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhhh i hope this one gets you !!!!

On the very first day of the month, Louis goes back to training. He’s rested long enough, following the doctor’s orders cautiously. So he jumps into it, feeling ready. With nationals coming up, there’s no time to waste. 

So he runs with everyone else and does the target kicking with them, too. When James has them gear up, Louis is excited to be putting it on again. He does every single drill without an ounce of pain. He knows he’s going to be alright. 

He rotates on and off with Harry and Zayn, the three of them back to taking turns again. 

“You’re lucky we’re not in the same division anymore, Tomlinson,” Harry says, after landing a solid point on Louis’ chest gear. “Or you could kiss the national title goodbye.”

“Harry,” James calls. “Focus.”

Louis can’t remember the last time Harry spit his last name out like that. 

“You’ve lost whatever edge you had left over me,” Harry gloats, scoring again. 

“Shut up,” Louis fires back in a series of kicks in which none of them land. 

Is Harry right? Is there any chance of him winning nationals, with or without Harry in his division? 

Harry looks at him pitifully, and Louis wishes he could just disappear. 

At the end of the session, Zayn sticks by Louis in the locker room. He doesn’t say anything until Harry leaves. 

“Okay,” Zayn throws his hands up. “Catch me up. What happened between his birthday and now?” 

And when Louis starts to think about what Zayn already knows, he realizes he actually has a lot to catch up on. While Zayn’s been busy with Gigi, Louis hasn’t often considered talking to him about whatever’s going on with Harry; it feels trivial compared to Zayn’s real relationship. So when Zayn told him all about Valentine’s day with his girlfriend, Louis just sat and listened, deciding not to tell the story of his unexpectedly eventful night. 

“Are you sure you want to hear all of it?” Louis asks, wanting to make sure Zayn won’t be annoyed. 

“Louis,” Zayn sighs. “I always do. I hope you haven’t been holding back when you talk to me because you’re worried about what I think. If you’re still thinking about that time I kind of snapped, you have to understand where I was coming from.” 

Louis just nods.

“It’s like I said before, I just want you to give yourself a chance. Don’t get so caught up in whatever is going on that you overthink and ignore how you feel about it.”

Louis doesn’t think he understands, but maybe it’s a little bit intentional. 

“Liam’s at work,” Zayn states. “Come over and tell me about it.”

That’s how Louis finds himself pacing around Zayn’s bedroom, telling Zayn all about everything that’s gone down that he doesn’t know about. Zayn sits on his bed, listening attentively. 

“Alright,” he puts his hands on his head when Louis finishes. “So you went on a literal date with him-”

“Not a date.”

“What was it then?” Zayn asks, before moving on, realizing Louis won’t budge on the label. “Alright, whatever. So you go out. And you absolutely destroy his ex over the phone, and then somehow,” Zayn throws his arms up. “He ends up crying in your lap, and you spend the night sleeping on the couch with him? So, sleeping next to him for the second time.”

“Well…”

“Stop.”

“There was also the night at provincials,” Louis looks at the ground. 

Zayn covers his face with his hands. “The night you slept in his room because Gigi came to ours,” Zayn clarifies. “You didn’t just sleep in the extra bed?”

Louis purses his lips together.

Zayn just shakes his head, deciding to move past that minor detail Louis may have forgotten about. 

“And now,” he says dramatically. “You’re back to being weird because you gave him an extremely sexual foam roller massage?”

“Uh-”

“Don’t even deny that one. The way you explained it…” he trails off, before starting to laugh. “God, Louis.” 

When someone else says it all out loud, Louis supposes it sounds a little bit ridiculous. 

“I don’t know what to do,” Louis admits honestly. 

“You could go talk to him.”

“I don’t think so,” Louis shakes his head, realizing that’s just another thing Zayn doesn’t know. “That didn’t go over so well last time I tried.” 

Zayn just raises his eyebrows, waiting for Louis to elaborate. 

“When I went to talk to him about New Year’s-”

“Right,” Zayn nods. “When you kissed him.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Louis brushes it off. “Anyways. You told me I should talk to him. For a while, I avoided it. But then I went over and...”

“You kissed him again,” Zayn fills in the sentence, looking at Louis in utter disbelief.

“Well, actually, he kissed me,” Louis defends.

_But I guess I kissed him, too._

Louis sits down on the bed next to Zayn, sensing an impending moment of silence.

And he’s right; Zayn doesn’t say anything for a while after that. Finally, he looks over at Louis.

“You’re both insane.” 

**

Louis takes his junior team out to their first ever local competition. James tags along, offering advice to both Louis and the students throughout the day. 

In the morning, they all compete in poomsae. Some of them medal while others don’t, but Louis makes sure they all maintain a good attitude. Afterwards, they watch the freestyle competitors, and Louis asks James if he thinks it would be a good idea to try and team up Alex and Ava.

“I don’t know,” James answers, looking over at the two girls, both with medals around their necks. “They’re good on their own, but what happens if you try to force them together?” 

Louis knows he’ll have to think about it. 

They all put their gear on once forms are over. At this level, they’re only in divisions of four. Every single one of them will leave with a medal, only fighting a maximum of two matches. Louis helps them get ready, then sends them off to their respective rings before wandering the gymnasium with James while they warm up. 

“How are you feeling about nationals?” 

“I don’t know,” Louis sighs. “I really want to win, James,” he laughs.

“I think you have a really good chance this year, kid.”

Louis thinks he might be right. Of course, he doesn’t want to get too confident; that’s always been Harry’s job. But he’s having a good season, and he’s hopeful. 

“I hope so.”

They walk over to a ring that looks like it’s getting ready to start. Keaton is on deck, and Louis heads over to coach him. The juniors only have two rounds, lasting a minute and thirty seconds each. Louis gives Keaton advice between rounds, but he can’t quite gain an edge on his opponent. He loses, and he’ll be taking home bronze, but Louis makes sure he’s proud of himself, anyways. 

They move over to another ring, and Louis is able to coach all of his fighters, except Alex and Ava, who both won their first match. When he and James make it over to their ring for the gold medal match, James suggests he coach Alex, while Louis coaches Ava, completely swapping students from before they were on the team. 

“Alright,” Louis says, patting her gently on the head. “Fight like you know how.” 

Ava just nods, then looks up and over her shoulder at Louis. 

“Is this how you feel with Harry sir?” 

“How?”

“Like no matter what, it’s always going to be the two of you in the end,” she glances over at Alex, then turns back to Louis. “Fighting for gold, even when you’re not fighting for gold.” 

“Um,” Louis starts, wondering when these kids got so wise. 

Thankfully, the referee calls them in right then. Ava looks at Louis one last time, seeming to understand his lack of answer.

“Thanks, coach,” she says, smiling softly at him before walking into the ring. 

Louis forces himself to focus through their match, watching each of their moves and countermoves. Both girls fight hard, having started to learn each other’s strengths and weaknesses already, after just a few weeks of training together. That’s the best thing about fighting a teammate; you really know them as a fighter. Nothing is ever a complete surprise. 

After the first round, Ava is leading by two. 

“You’re doing a great job,” Louis tells her. “But you still need to shorten up your stance like we talked about. Then you’ll be able to move in and out faster, and use your longer legs to your advantage.”

Ava nods and takes a sip of her water, leg tapping.

“Hey,” Louis says. “It’s not the end of the world. And you’re doing just fine.” 

Ava nods again, then looks up at Louis. 

“Do you tell yourself that when you’re fighting him? Or is it the end of the world for you just a little bit each time?” 

And then she’s gone again, not coming back until after she wins and shakes hands with James on the other side of the ring. Louis doesn’t stop thinking about her words the whole time. 

“Was that the end of the world for you, just a little bit?”

Ava glances over at Alex, who’s standing by James, struggling to maintain a smile. 

“A little bit, yeah.” 

After the students receive their medals, they’re free to find their parents in the bleachers and go home. James offers to take Louis out for a drink, but he politely declines, telling him he’s probably just going to go home and sleep after another long day. 

But really, he goes to the gym to squeeze in his own quick training session. 

“Are you fucking serious?” 

That’s the first thing Louis hears when he steps inside.

“Didn’t you have a tournament today?” Harry asks as Louis slips off his shoes.

“It’s over,” Louis just shrugs. “I can go, if you want.”

Truthfully, Louis doesn’t want to leave. He came to train just like Harry did. But if the two of them can’t be alone anymore, then he’ll be the bigger person and just walk away.

Harry looks like he’s genuinely thinking about it. 

“No,” he says finally. “It’s alright.”

Louis moves towards the centre of the gym, skipping past the locker rooms, in favour of approaching Harry in his regular clothes. 

“How long are we going to keep doing this? I don’t even know why you’re back to…”

“Back to what?” Harry dares him to finish his sentence.

“I don’t know!” Louis yells, suddenly feeling provoked. He gains his composure before speaking again. “I just think I liked it better when things weren’t quite so intense all the time.”

Harry just looks at Louis. “One way or another, we’ve always been intense and you know it.” 

“So,” Louis doesn’t break eye contact, refusing to allow Harry to think he won somehow. “What are we going to do about it?” 

Harry takes a step closer, and although everything in Louis screams at him to step back, he holds his ground and doesn’t move. 

There’s a long moment where Harry just stands there, crowding up Louis’ space without saying anything. Louis can feel his breath on his face, and see the way his pupils are blown in anger. He watches the way Harry’s jaw clenches, as if he’s holding back words he wants to say. 

“Let’s train.”

Harry turns around and walks away, the tension dissipating around them. 

They train together in silence, and Louis doesn’t think he could ask for anything more. 

**

Louis wakes up early in the morning, despite the team having a late flight out to Toronto. These next few days are huge and he’s feeling the nerves. He feels like he has a lot riding on this competition; the stakes are high, but simultaneously non-existent. If he wins, he goes to worlds, but if he loses, his season is over. Is it the worst thing ever if he loses? Certainly not, but that doesn’t mean it’ll feel good, either. 

The tournament lasts for seven days, mimicking worlds. The organization of the days differs, however. The first two days are devoted to junior competitions, while the third day is for senior forms. The next four are for senior sparring, and each division takes up an entire day. All it takes is one day to make or break your season. At worlds, it’s one round for each division every day, with all of the finals on the last day. 

Louis couldn’t say which format he likes better, mostly because he’s never been to worlds, only dreamt of it.

Until this year. He’s determined to make it this year. 

He double checks his equipment bag, then his suitcase, making sure he has all the essentials. He puts them both by the door so they’re right there in the late afternoon when it’s time to head out. He finds himself pacing around his living room and kitchen, a habit he only partakes in when he’s particularly in his head.

_What if Harry wins and I don’t?_

Louis knows he would never hear the end of it, especially given they’re no longer competing against each other. If Louis loses, it won’t be because Harry bested him, but rather, at the hands of some stranger.

A thought that somehow feels worse creeps into Louis’ mind. 

_What if I win and Harry doesn’t?_

Louis couldn’t explain why that’s a source of fear, but it is. He knows it’s probably just because they’ve never competed apart from each other. Where Louis fought, Harry fought, too. 

Whatever the outcome, it’s simply what’s meant to happen.

Louis opens his fridge to see if he can find anything to eat for breakfast. Leading up to today, he was very cautious with grocery shopping, not wanting anything to go bad while he’s away. As it works out, he’s got two eggs left, and that’s perfectly light enough for his nervous stomach. 

Without noticing, the day goes by. Louis doesn’t do much, but suddenly he’s getting a message in the group chat letting him know that they’re waiting outside. 

He grabs his things and heads out, taking one last look around as he shuts off the lights and closes the door behind him. 

_Here we go._

“Hey,” Louis says as he slides into the backseat after throwing his bags in the trunk. “Thanks for driving us, Liam.”

Next to Louis, Niall is sitting in the middle seat, with Harry on his other side. Louis supposes Niall is making the trip to the airport for moral support. 

“Of course,” Liam smiles in the mirror. “But Niall and I talked about it, and if you guys make it to worlds, we’re coming with you,” he jokes.

“Sounds good,” Louis laughs. 

And he means it, because who wouldn’t want to spend two weeks in Paris?

Zayn turns up the volume on his playlist, and slowly, they all join in to sing together, having a good laugh one last time before being separated for a week, and three of them need to get absolutely serious. 

Louis looks out the window, watching as they leave the city behind, heading towards the start of another taekwondo adventure.

**

At the airport, Harry jumps out first, going to grab his bags from the back. Niall stops Louis briefly with a hand on his arm.

“Louis,” he says, voice completely firm now, the laughter and singing pushed aside. “You have to make sure he doesn’t work himself up. He’s been so stressed this last week.”

_Why is that my job?_

“Yeah,” Louis swallows. “I can do that.”

“Good,” Niall nods. “And go win.”

**

“Alright,” James looks down at the tickets in his hands. “Gigi, Lauren,” he hands them out as he names them off. 

Louis catches a glimpse of Zayn’s ticket and realizes immediately what he’s done.

“You’re kidding me,” Louis shakes his head. 

“Hey, man,” he laughs. “We drove here together. I’m sitting next to her on the plane.” 

Louis isn’t mad at Zayn for that, not really. But he knows where that leaves him. 

“Zayn,” he whines. “It’s almost a four hour flight.” 

“Right,” Zayn pats him on the cheek jokingly. “So maybe you guys can reconcile.” 

Louis just groans and takes his ticket as they move forward in the line at security. They all take their turns, taking off their shoes and jackets, putting their bags in the bins and onto the conveyor belt before walking through the detector. Once they’re all through, James tells them to be at the gate in an hour, leaving them to wander and keep themselves entertained until then. 

“Am I sitting with you?” Harry asks from behind Louis, startling him. 

“I don’t know,” Louis says honestly, though he’s pretty sure of the answer. “Where are you sitting?” 

Harry looks down at the ticket in his hand. 

“15B.”

“Yeah,” Louis sighs. “I’m 15A.”

“Okay.”

_Okay?_

“Okay.”

**

They board the plane all together, Harry following closely behind Louis to their row. Harry offers to take Louis’ equipment bag and put it in the overhead bin, putting them both up together and then looking at the two seats next to each other. 

And Louis knows Harry. He doesn’t like that it’s true, but it just is, and he can’t unlearn all the small things he’s learned about him over the last five years. 

“Do you want the window seat?”

Harry smiles softly before slipping past Louis and sitting down first, leaving Louis in the aisle. Across from them and one row ahead, Zayn is sitting in the aisle seat, too. Louis watches as he chats with Gigi and interlaces his fingers with hers. His attention is broken when the flight attendants walk past, checking to make sure the overhead bins are closed and that everyone is wearing their seatbelt. 

The plane starts taxiing and the safety procedures begin. Louis sits back in his chair, watching the motions of the flight attendants. Once they’re complete, the pilot tells them to get ready for takeoff as the plane comes to a stop on the runway. 

When it starts moving again, it picks up speed quickly, and Louis closes his eyes. He doesn’t mind flying in general, but he doesn’t like the takeoff or the landing. After feeling the plane leave the ground, he gives it another minute before opening his eyes again. When he does, he finds Harry looking at him curiously. But as soon as their eyes meet, Harry whips his head back in the other direction to look out the window. 

Louis doesn’t think he’s going to be able to make it through the whole flight sitting next to him. 

Once they level off, Harry turns away from the window.

“You don’t like flying?” He asks, staring at the seat in front of him.

Louis just shrugs, not caring whether or not Harry can even see him. 

They sit in silence after that, for what feels like a long time. But eventually, Louis grows restless. He can’t handle living in his head so much. 

_Maybe you guys can reconcile._

“Harry,” he says, wanting to get his attention before saying anything else. 

Harry turns his whole body to look at him, eyebrows raised. 

And just that one look sends Louis into a panic. The longer Louis goes without saying anything, the more confused Harry looks. 

“What is it?”

“Um,” Louis stammers, suddenly not able to think of a single word to say. 

There’s a million questions running through his mind, why can’t he just choose one?

Harry rolls his eyes then and reaches down into his backpack on the floor to grab his headphones. He unwinds the cord and plugs them into his phone before silently offering one to Louis.

Louis takes it and slides closer to Harry in his seat as he puts it in his ear.

_Today isn’t the day._

Harry lifts the arm rest between them, removing the thing that’s physically dividing him from Louis. 

_Can you do that mentally, too?_

Louis slides just a little bit closer.

**

At the hotel, James tells Louis, Harry and Zayn that they’re all in a room together. The girls are paired off, but the competition only put them up for four rooms, meaning none of the fighters could have their own, since James gets his own on the coaches floor, leaving three rooms between seven people. 

“Can’t you put Mack, Nat and Lauren together?” Harry asks. “Zayn could stay with Gigi.”

Zayn looks over at Harry, the same way James is currently looking at him.

“That would leave you with Louis.”

Harry stays quiet for a second, then seems to put those pieces together. 

“Oh, yeah,” he says quietly, eyes trailed on the carpet beneath them.

Realistically, Louis knows he’s going to end up with just Harry, anyways. It’s more than likely Lauren just goes to stay with Mackenzie and Natalie, so Zayn can go stay with Gigi. Whether it’s official or not, that’s just how it’s going to be. 

They take their keys and head up to their room, and sure enough, Zayn doesn’t even drop his bags. 

“So...” he says, looking up from his phone where he probably received confirmation from Gigi that he can stay with her. 

“Yeah,” Harry answers first. “It’s fine,” he pauses, glancing at Louis. “We’ll be fine.”

Zayn looks between the two of them, nodding slowly.

“I’m sure.”

“Just,” Harry says once Zayn is almost out the door. “Stay focused,” he laughs. 

Zayn laughs with him, then looks to Louis for one last sign of confirmation, and he just nods. 

When the door closes behind Zayn, Harry makes the first move.

“I want this bed,” he throws his stuff on the bed next to the patio, before walking out of the room.

He doesn’t return until Louis’ gone to bed for the night, almost asleep when the hallway light creeps in with Harry. Louis rolls over in bed, watching as Harry just collapses into his own bed. He doesn’t even move his bags or get changed. 

“Louis?” He says quietly after a moment of just laying there.

Louis doesn’t respond. 

Harry doesn’t try again. 

**

_NATIONALS - DAY 1_

“This is…” Lauren’s eyes go big with wonder as they walk into the arena all together.

Though none of them compete today, they have to attend in order to receive their lanyards that identify them as athletes. It’s at this point they all realize how many people are competing. And as they step into the arena, it becomes even more clear, seeing all the juniors buzzing around, getting ready for the day. 

Everyone sits for a little while, watching the juniors compete in poomsae. Eventually, most of the team grows bored, deciding to head out, but Louis wants to watch a little while longer. 

“Alright, man,” Zayn pats him on the back as everyone else walks away. “But come back to the hotel soon, yeah? We’re going to the CN tower tonight.” 

Louis checks his phone, and asks Zayn what time. He agrees to go with them, and promises Zayn he’ll be back. Zayn leaves the bleachers and James takes his spot.

“You alright, Louis?” 

“Yeah,” Louis turns to look at James. “Just feeling weird.”

Louis doesn’t really want to talk about it, mostly because there isn’t anything more to say. 

“Okay,” James nods. “I just hope you know that the team counts on you for morale.”

_They do?_

“You don’t really need to watch these juniors.”

Louis knows he doesn’t. He just keeps thinking of Alex and Ava, the Louis and Harry of his junior team. He can’t stop hearing Ava’s words in his head, over and over again. 

And then there’s Harry. 

God, Louis can’t stop thinking about those words but they’re all about Harry so he’s thinking of Harry but he doesn’t want to because he’s _Harry_. 

“What’s really going on?” James asks, sensing the incessant running of Louis’ mind. 

“I don’t know,” Louis breathes out. “Stupid shit.”

“Just out of curiosity,” James continues cautiously. “Does it have to do with Harry?”

_Of course it does._

_It’s always Harry._

“I know being in different divisions for the first time must be hard, even if your mind doesn’t think it should be-”

“It’s not just that,” Louis sinks himself in, giving up. “It’s even dumber. I just,” he pauses. “It seemed like we were becoming friends, and now he’s back to hating me. I don’t even know what happened.”

“Well,” James says after a moment of silence, in which he was probably processing the insane thing Louis just said. James has only ever seen them hate each other for all the years he’s coached them, so for him, this must be a little much all at once. 

“Why don’t you ask him?”

**

The team makes their way to the CN tower in the evening, deciding to have dinner in the rotating restaurant, which includes a ride to the top for free. They’ll pay for their meal, but they’ll also get the sights. 

They laugh through the night, the looming stress always feeling a little less like doom when they’re together. 

Towards the end of the meal, Harry goes a little pale. 

“Are you okay?” Lauren notices first.

Harry stands up quickly and dashes towards the bathroom. Everyone is left sitting and looking at each other, while Louis takes it upon himself to follow Harry and make sure he’s alright.

“Hey,” he says, bursting into the washroom not long after Harry. “Are you sick?” 

He finds Harry leaning over a toilet, but not currently in the process of throwing up, nor is there any evidence of him throwing up before Louis walked in. 

“God,” Harry groans. “Why are you still here?”

“What?” 

“Why,” Harry stands up, suddenly not looking as sick anymore. “Do you keep coming back,” Harry leaves the stall now, stepping towards Louis. “Even after I keep pushing you away?”

“Um,” Louis retreats, back against the wall by the time Harry makes it right up to his face. 

Harry stands in front of Louis, waiting for an answer. But with Harry’s eyes on him like that, Louis’ mind goes blank.

“I don’t know.”

And any other words Louis could come up with are quickly replaced by a small gasp when Harry leans in close, mouth right next to his ear, leg pushing forwards and parting Louis’ legs in the process.

“Well,” he whispers. “You better figure it out.”

And then he’s gone, and Louis is the one left feeling sick in the bathroom. 

After that, neither of them say a word to each other. They head back to the hotel with the team and say goodnight to everyone else, before falling back into silence as they head to their own room, where they move silently around one another to get ready for bed. 

They both lie down and Louis turns off the lamp between their beds. 

“Goodnight, Harry,” he sighs.

Harry doesn’t respond. 

**

_NATIONALS - DAY 2_

The team opts out of watching the juniors, deciding instead to spend the day relaxing and stretching. Harry disappears for hours on end and Louis can’t bring himself to care. He goes to see Zayn and Gigi, where they stretch together and mindlessly watch TV for most of the day.

In the evening, Louis starts to feel like he should leave them alone, so he tells them he’ll head back to his own room. They both fight back quickly, inviting him to dinner, instead. 

Louis doesn’t care for being a third wheel, but he also doesn’t care to be alone. 

At least, not in this hotel. Not in a room that isn’t his own. 

So he goes out for dinner with Zayn and Gigi and forces himself to have a good time. He wonders if Harry is back at the hotel room, or if he went out to get dinner, too. When they get back, Louis says goodnight and heads back to the room, where he finds Harry laying in bed, watching TV alone.

It’s almost symbolic, really.

“Where did you go?” Harry asks, without so much as glancing in Louis’ direction.

“Shut up.” 

That makes Harry look over quickly. But Louis doesn’t have the energy to deal with it, so he pretends he doesn’t notice, walking straight to the bathroom, instead.

Luckily, that’s the end of it. Harry gets the message; he doesn’t follow him, and he doesn’t say anything more when Louis walks out, either. 

At least, not until they’re both lying in the dark.

“Goodnight, Louis.”

But Louis doesn’t respond. 

**

_NATIONALS - DAY 3_

“Are you guys feeling ready?”

Zayn, Mackenzie, and Natalie are standing in the locker room with the rest of the team standing by, not willing to leave until they have no other choice. 

“Yeah,” Mackenzie smiles. “I’m excited.”

After a few more minutes of encouragement from the group, it’s their turn to go warm up. They always stretch beforehand, but it’s a chance to practice alone in a smaller room with an actual ring set up. James will go with them, watching as they run through their routines and poomsae. The rest of the team makes their way to the competitor section of the bleachers, where they scour for space for the four of them. 

“This is crazy,” Gigi says, looking around at all the other competitors on the bleachers.

Some of them are in uniform, while others are not. The four of them are in their team tracksuits, despite not competing themselves, but it’s a tradition they have. If anybody on the team is competing, and you’re there to watch, you’re in uniform, too. It’s that simple. 

“Guys, look!” Gigi interrupts, pointing excitedly down the main area.

Zayn is walking with James towards the centre ring. He’s up next.

“Let’s go, Zayn!” Louis yells, making sure he knows they’re there.

Zayn looks up at the bleachers and finds them, giving them a quick wave. 

In Louis’ professional opinion, Zayn performs flawlessly. And when his scores come back nearly perfect, Louis is on his feet right beside Gigi, cheering loudly. 

He takes first place. 

Mackenzie and Natalie are up against some tough competition, and unfortunately, they both only place third in poomsae. That knocks Natalie out of worlds completely, but Mackenzie still has a shot at team freestyle. 

When it comes time for freestyle, Zayn places first again. However, he and Mackenzie earn silver, meaning their routine won’t quite cut it. 

It’s certainly sad to see Mackenzie and Natalie be done, but the team shows no pity, clapping and cheering nonetheless. They look up at them in the bleachers with a smile, knowing they did what they could and they’re bringing home medals from nationals, which is something not everyone here will do. 

But Zayn. 

_Zayn is going to worlds._

“Guys,” Lauren says, arms extended beside her. “Zayn is going to worlds.” 

They leave the bleachers and head for the locker room to meet the three of them. Louis decides to be polite and allow Gigi to hug Zayn first, so he hugs the other two quickly, telling them how proud he is no matter what. 

When he turns around again, Harry is unwrapping himself from Zayn, and Louis feels a pang inside at the sight of him holding Zayn the same way he wrapped himself around Louis on his birthday.

_That feels like forever ago…_

Louis snaps back into focus, nearly tackling Zayn to the ground with the force he uses flying at him. 

“Woah,” Zayn laughs, reciprocating Louis’ hug with the same force.

“I love you, Z. So proud of you.”

“I guess you really better win, now.” 

**

_NATIONALS - DAY 4_

Zayn and Lauren are fighting today. 

Louis and Gigi fight tomorrow, while Harry fights the next. On day seven, they don’t have anybody on the team fighting in that division, so they’ll get to relax and celebrate. 

The two of them have their gear on, getting ready for their preliminary match. The girls alternate the boys all day, and the two of them are fighting back to back. Everyone is standing around in somewhat of a circle, chatting erratically. While the rest of them are distracted, Louis pulls Lauren aside.

“Are you nervous, kid?” 

“A little bit,” she nods. “This is way bigger than anything I ever did on the junior team.”

“You worked hard,” Louis squeezes her arm gently. “Be proud of yourself for making it this far in your first year.”

Louis knows she would have made it this far if James allowed the junior team to compete more seriously. Instead, he directed all of their time and energy to training, preparing them for the senior team. His mentality was that if they didn’t like it, they could train elsewhere and compete.

And that did happen, for sure; junior students leaving the studio to find somewhere else that would allow them to compete at the junior level. But James currently holds one hundred percent attendance at the national level, so Louis knows it’s a beneficial strategy. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Louis smiles. “It’ll be alright.”

She wraps her arms around Louis quickly, and over her shoulder, Louis catches Harry’s eye. He ignores it and turns his attention back to Lauren.

“You’ll be alright.”

Just before Zayn and Lauren have to leave, the team gathers closely, hands in. 

“Sipjin.”

Everyone watches from the bleachers, screaming as Zayn wins his first match. As soon as he’s done, Lauren makes her way to the centre ring, James already by her side. Zayn runs up to the bleachers to sit with everyone else during her match. 

“You’re killing it, man,” Louis says as Zayn sits next to him. 

“Well,” Zayn brushes it off. “I need to win three more if I want it to mean anything.” 

Lauren’s match starts and everyone goes silent. They listen as she yells anytime she lands a point on her opponent, all of them cheering each time. By the end of the first round, she’s leading by one. 

Louis watches as James talks to her intensely. From an outsider’s view, it looks like he’s yelling at her. But the team knows he’s just in the zone. In the second round, Lauren continues to dominate, and at one point, James jumps up from his chair, clapping for her after a particularly well-earned point. 

In the end, Lauren wins.

She shows excellent sportsmanship, but Louis can tell her smile is for herself; as it should be. 

Louis stays on his feet the longest, clapping for her accomplishment. When she looks up and waves as she exits the ring, Louis points at her, and he thinks she knows. 

He knew she could do it. And she knows he knew it. 

She joins everyone else on the bleachers for their quick break, and James shows up shortly after. 

“Alright,” he says, trying to cool their excitement. “We’ve still got work to do.”

He checks his phone for the schedule and realizes it’ll be their turn again before long. So after watching one more match all together, he drags Zayn and Lauren back down to the open space in the gymnasium, in an attempt to give them some quick pointers and things to fix. 

The five others remain, watching each match with enthusiasm, though much less so than when they’re watching those of their own team. 

“Do you guys think-” 

“Shh,” Gigi cuts Mackenzie off. “We don’t say anything.” 

Mackenzie puts her hands up in defense, and suddenly it’s Zayn’s turn again. 

They’re quite literally on the edge of their seats as Zayn fights the quarter finals match. He’s still got a full tank of energy, and Louis hopes he can maintain it for the last two matches.

Because he wins again.

Louis doesn’t want to say he’s surprised, but rather, incredibly impressed. Zayn’s sparring has come a long way in the last year, and suddenly he’s one step closer to securing a spot at worlds in both forms and sparring, three separate events. 

Lauren wins again, too. 

The team is busy losing their minds in the stands, while James is coaching the two of them again. They don’t have time to go back to the bleachers, so the team won’t see them again until after their division is over and the day is done.

But they’re both guaranteed to medal. 

Zayn fights hard, but trails at the end of the second round. At the break, he sips water and nods along as James speaks expressively.

“He always looks so angry,” Mackenzie comments.

“Yeah,” Natalie agrees. “I don’t know how you guys do it.”

“He’s not,” Harry shakes his head. “Angry, I mean.”

“Yeah, he just gets really into it. Wants us to win because he knows we can,” Louis adds, looking over at Harry to see him nodding along. 

The third round starts and Zayn fights like someone lit a fire under his feet. Louis is nearly certain Zayn’s tank is running on empty, but he’s completely certain Zayn knows these two minutes are the ones that count. He comes back hard, and his opponent doesn’t know how to react fast enough at his new pace. He takes the lead as time runs down, but doesn’t lay off to run the clock. 

Suddenly, Louis realizes that was the strategy all along; maybe not to be trailing in the first two rounds, but to change the pace in the third. Once a pace is set for a match, things get almost a little bit comfortable. Assuredly, you still don’t know exactly what to expect from your opponent, but for the most part, you figure out the general rhythm of the match.

Unless you’re Zayn, and pull a complete one-eighty to throw them off. 

Lauren is up next, and it seems like seeing Zayn win and the team cheering him on makes her slightly more nervous than before. 

“Let’s go, Lauren!” Harry calls loudly, picking up on her nerves from the competitor’s chair. 

Lauren doesn’t look over, but a small smile grows on her face as James talks to her while they wait for the officials to reset. When she’s called into the ring, James pats her on the head before taking her chair as she walks in. 

On the bleachers, they clap loudly, only going silent momentarily as they bow. As soon as the match is on, they’re cheering again. 

The bad news is that Louis knows the girl Lauren is fighting from previous years. Lauren probably doesn’t know, but her opponent is about five years older than her, which means she has that much more experience controlling the ring. 

Sadly, Louis isn’t completely surprised when Lauren comes up short in the end. 

They all continue cheering and applauding, though, and Lauren absolutely deserves it; she put up one hell of a fight. She didn’t make it easy for her opponent, who will go on to win the gold medal match. Louis watches as Lauren’s opponent approaches her after they both leave the ring, giving her a quick hug. He can’t hear their conversation below them, but Louis likes to imagine Lauren is being praised.

All that remains for the day are the gold medal matches. 

Lauren has to remain on the floor for the medal ceremony immediately afterwards, but she stands near the bleachers and waves up at the team. They wave back, still smiling down at her. There’s a small break before the finals start, but when they start up again, they’re announcing the fighters. 

They cheer louder than ever before at Zayn’s name as he walks through the arena towards the competitor’s chair, James following closely behind him. Once both fighters are being called in, the arena goes silent. Everybody is watching with anticipation as they bow and the referee gets them set up. 

Louis is the first to break the silence as Zayn makes his first attack.

“Eh!” He yells, in time with a clean point landing on the chest gear. 

Zayn seems to take their energy and run with it. 

By the end of the first round, Zayn is leading. Going into the second, he takes his foot off the gas a little bit, but still making sure to accelerate anytime the situation calls for it. At the end of the second, the score is tied. 

The team watches nervously as James talks to Zayn before the last round, motioning with his hands something he needs to be doing with his body. Zayn nods, understanding. On the bleachers, they’ve fallen into a natural silence, sitting on the edge of their seats, holding their breath as the last round begins. 

Louis can see it in Zayn’s walk; he’s going to win this match. Zayn is going to win gold in his division, and he’s going to be sparring at worlds. 

“He’s gonna do it,” he whispers to whoever is sitting next to him, not caring who hears his silent manifestation. 

When Zayn wins, the team is on their feet. 

“You’re always right, aren’t you?”

At the sound of Harry’s voice whispering in his ear over all the noise, Louis naturally leans in closer before turning to look at him.

The two continue clapping as they just look at each other, really looking for the first time in what feels like a long time. 

Zayn grabs his opponent’s wrist and raises it up, facing the crowd in the bleachers, and Louis doesn’t think anything could bring Zayn down at that moment. Three national titles. 

Zayn finds Lauren then, standing with her, arm slung around her shoulder as they watch the women’s gold medal match. Once it’s over, they join the top four in each division for the medal ceremony. They’re presented with their medals, photographed, then ushered off somewhere out of sight from the bleachers. 

Around them, people start to stand up and leave, but the team waits until the sense of urgency has died down. They’re all washed with a sudden and overwhelming feeling, maintaining the silence among them until they find Zayn and Lauren on the ground floor. 

They’re both showered in congratulations, the spell over the rest of the team finally being broken upon the sight of them. 

“Ugh,” Louis pulls away from Zayn almost as quickly as he hugs him. “You stink.”

“I know,” he pulls Louis tight against his body again. “I can’t believe this,” he whispers.

“I can,” Louis whispers right back. “Proud of you.” 

They call it an early night, all of them fully understanding the lack of celebration until everyone is done. Zayn and Lauren feel the effects of fighting all day, physically drained as they head back to the hotel. 

Louis’ nerves kick in, and he’s not even in the mood to do anything, anyways. So once he’s in his room, he stays for the entire night. He lies down, trying to calm his mind so he can get a good rest for tomorrow. 

Harry is there, too, briefly. He flits around the room for a few minutes, then walks out into the hallway and disappears, which is something Louis has just accepted at this point. 

But the other nights, Harry came back.

As Louis stares at the ceiling at midnight, he starts to think Harry isn’t coming back tonight. 

He’s worried.

About fighting tomorrow, that is. 

He doesn’t sleep very well. 

**

_NATIONALS - DAY 5_

When Louis wakes up, the first thing he does is look over to Harry’s bed.

Still empty.

He doesn’t think too much about it; he needs to focus. He gets up and showers, knowing full well he’ll be taking another one later, anyways. He gets ready like it’s just any other day.

But it’s _not._ Louis knows it’s not. 

He needs to stay sharp, and he checks his bags one last time before heading down to the lobby to meet everyone else. 

“Let’s go, Louis,” Zayn starts hyping him up already as he walks out of the elevator.

“You ready, Gigi?” Louis asks as he joins the group standing near the door. 

“Yeah,” she nods. “Let’s do this.” 

“Where’s Harry?” Zayn asks.

“I don’t know,” Louis shrugs. “I assumed he was with one of you last night.” 

Everyone looks at one another nervously, shaking their heads. 

Louis can’t afford the energy to think about it. 

Besides, for whatever reason, James doesn’t seem concerned, and he leads them all outside towards their designated van without Harry. 

Nobody says another word about Harry’s absence, and Louis thinks it’s probably for the best. 

When they get to the arena, they all pile out, thanking their driver once again, then head inside, following the crowd. 

Louis and Gigi go through check in while the rest of the team heads into the arena. Louis goes through each familiar yet foreign motion, too preoccupied with the events that are about to take place.

_Four matches._

_Four matches is all it takes._

He waits for Gigi, and then together, they walk into the arena to find the team and get dressed in the locker room.

“Do you think he’s going to show up?” Louis asks suddenly as he ties his belt, not even sure where the outburst came from.

Zayn looks at Louis with a kind of sadness in his eyes.

“I don’t know,” he answers sincerely. “Are things still…”

“Weird?” Louis finishes. “Yeah.” 

They head back out to gather with James and the girls in the empty space they can find. Noticing empty spots on the competitor’s bleachers in the first row, they rush to do their cheer before taking off to claim those seats.

“Good luck, G,” Zayn kisses Gigi quickly before turning and kissing Louis’ cheek. “You too, Lou.”

There’s a chorus of “good luck” and “you got this” echoing behind them as the team takes the stairs up, only reappearing again once they’re on the bleachers. 

Louis and Gigi stay put with James, laughing as they wave to the four of them sitting above. 

“Alright,” James nods sharply. “Girls are up first today. Gigi, your preliminary match is the third one, and Louis you’re right after.”

That means they’re up soon. Gigi grabs Louis’ hand, sensing his worry. He relaxes slightly, realizing it also means he’ll get a long rest before the quarter finals match. 

James brings them into the warm-up room, where they check each other’s gear sensors and the officials watch on to make sure everything is working properly. 

“Gigi,” an official calls, waving her over when she looks up. 

“I’m so excited,” she says casually, and Louis can’t believe her, but also can’t help but smile at her energy. 

Louis follows behind her and James, wanting to watch the match. He can hear the team directly above them, reminding him that’s where he sat just yesterday. He watches as Gigi looks up at them over her shoulder, so Louis looks up, too. 

Still no sign of Harry.

But whatever.

Louis turns his attention back to the ring, where Gigi is now seated in the fighter’s chair. James is talking to her calmly, no need to be worked up yet. She takes a sip of water, swishing it around her mouth as James talks. When the referee calls her in, she swallows and stands up, walking with confidence to the centre. 

Confidence that is clearly earned, because she wins her first match with ease. 

_Oh._

_That means it’s my turn now._

Louis feels like he’s floating as he walks over to where James is waiting for him. Nothing feels real. Not when he’s sitting in the chair and not when he’s fighting, either. He only snaps out of his trance after the end of the match, not even realizing he won until he looks up at his team on the bleachers.

Gigi and Louis go up to join everyone else on the bleachers during the rest of the preliminaries. They all chat excitedly, watching each match and picking out strategies of the winner for when they face up against them.

Louis tries to focus; he watches the fighters and listens to the strategies, but none of it is really registering. And then Gigi is tugging at his arm, telling him it’s time to go. Back in the warm up room, she asks if he’s alright.

“Yeah,” he nods. “I just always feel weird when I’m here. It’s like my mind is just trying to pretend it’s not a big deal so I don’t stress as much.”

Gigi nods, lips pursed together, clearly just pretending she believes what Louis is saying. 

Louis doesn’t bother trying to convince her, but continues kicking lightly and stretching simultaneously. Before long, Gigi is being pulled out, and Louis follows to watch again. 

There’s a moment in the first round that makes it seem like Gigi’s opponent may have the advantage, but Gigi is tough and comes back blazing. By the end of round two, she’s leading, and as long as she doesn’t ease up, there’s no way she loses. 

And she doesn’t. Gigi wins her quarter final, guaranteeing she’ll medal at nationals. Louis congratulates her on the win with a quick hug as they switch places. Louis takes the seat, and Gigi watches from the sidelines. Louis goes in with a new focus after seeing Gigi win. 

So he goes in and he does the same. He wins because he fights like he knows how because he does. This is everything he’s worked towards and it’s all paying off the way it should. 

After Gigi goes on to win her semi-final, Louis finds himself back in the chair, and for the first time in a couple hours, he brings himself to look up towards the bleachers. Without meaning to, he finds himself scanning for Harry.

Instead, his eyes land on Zayn’s, who just shakes his head lightly at Louis.

_He’s not here._

_Who cares?_

But Louis cares. And Louis recognizes that. 

He may take pride in not caring about Harry, but still somehow, he wants Harry to care about him. So he fights in the semi-final with a new sort of energy, one that’s a little bit hurt combined with a whole lot of anger.

Anger directed at Harry for being such an asshole and then not, leading to Louis’ constant state of confusion lately. But also anger directed at himself, for allowing any of this to even matter to him.

_This_ is what needs to matter to him; this match, this competition, this team that’s become his family. That’s it.

Louis wins. And he’s angry that he wins and he doesn’t know why. 

And then Louis is watching Gigi win her final, and he’s winning his final, only, none of it feels real. 

Not even when he’s having the gold medal placed around his neck on the podium, or when James is telling them both they’re going to worlds. 

_Sometimes I don’t feel real._

Louis stands on the podium, plastering a smile on his face for the sake of appearances.

_And then you look at me the way you do._

Louis understands now; maybe Harry keeps him feeling real, too. 

And maybe it’s always gone both ways. 

**

When they get back to the hotel, Louis says goodnight to everyone, then drags himself up to his room, where he showers quickly and collapses onto his bed immediately after. He has no energy left. 

And then Harry walks in. 

Any energy Louis didn’t have suddenly reappears as he flies out of bed.

“You fucker!” 

Harry closes the door behind him, visibly worried about Louis’ loud yelling. 

Louis stomps towards him, and Harry turns to face him. 

“Louis,” Harry says sternly as he walks backwards, matching Louis’ steps towards him.

But the warning tone goes right over Louis’ head; he gets two hands on Harry’s shoulders and shoves him hard towards the bed. The back of Harry’s knees hit the edge and he sits down automatically. He looks up at Louis, face soft around the edges, despite the way Louis’ face is anything but that.

“Where have you been?” Louis demands. “No, really,” he shakes his head. “I’d love to hear this one. I know you hate me, Harry, but we’re still a team,” Louis yells, though he’s still standing right in front of where Harry’s sitting. 

He only stops yelling when Harry’s gentle hands squeeze his hips lightly, pulling him just a little bit closer. 

“I didn’t want to distract you,” he says, then, softly, as if he doesn’t want Louis to hear, he adds, “but I was there.”

“Stop lying,” is all Louis can think to say, eyes trained on Harry’s hair, unable to look him in the eye.

Looking him in the eye would let too much emotion spill. 

“I was,” Harry pinches his hips, as if to remind him he’s still right there, and to make up for the way he wasn’t there when Louis needed him the most. “I left earlier than the rest of you this morning. But I saw every match.”

“So you really thought that the best way not to distract me was to just,” Louis can’t wrap his head around the logic. “Make me think you weren’t there? You didn’t stop to think that might actually distract me more?”

And Louis can’t resist the urge anymore to wrap his fingers in Harry’s hair, looking softer than ever when it’s just right there for his fingertips to touch. He tugs gently, forcing Harry to look up at him.

“If I’m being totally honest,” Harry smiles up at Louis. “I didn’t really think you’d care.” 

Louis removes his fingers from Harry’s hair, still feeling bitterness bubbling inside. Harry sees the look on his face, and removes his hands from Louis’ waist. 

“So,” Louis steps backwards. “Do you not want me to be there tomorrow? You know,” he waves his hands around. “So I don’t distract you.” 

“Louis,” Harry’s voice shakes. “Stop it.” 

“Why?” Louis retreats further. “Is that what you want?”

“No!” Harry suddenly finds his voice, standing up off the bed. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

_You always mean to hurt me._

_Or maybe you don’t._

“We’re a team,” Louis says, the only thing he can think to say. “We’re a team.” 

“Mmhmm,” Harry follows Louis, guiding him over to the bed as his mind flies away from him and around the room. 

And then Harry’s hands find him again. Louis looks at Harry, and Harry is already looking at him, returning Louis’ mind back to his body safely. And with that feeling, Louis thinks he must actually be losing his mind. 

_Why?_

But his thoughts don’t go anywhere else, can’t ask why _what_ , because Harry is helping him lie him down on his bed. 

“You did so good today, Lou,” he whispers, pulling the covers over Louis’ body, before turning off the lamp and moving towards his own bed.

“Harry,” Louis says, still not certain they’re on the same page. “Do you want me there tomorrow?”

Louis isn’t awake long enough to hear Harry’s answer. 

**

_NATIONALS - DAY 6_

When Harry wins his first match, Louis is right there with the rest of the team, cheering him on from the bleachers. He’s there when Harry joins them, grinning wide, not even faltering when his eyes land on Louis. He’s still there when Harry wins the quarter-final, and the semi-final after that. 

But the exact second the time runs out in the third round of the final match, Louis is the only one on his team still on his feet, everyone else having sunk down before him. 

He doesn’t want to be there anymore. 

No, Louis doesn’t want to be with the rest of the team. 

When Harry loses, Louis wants to be with Harry. 

He watches Harry walk out of the ring, back towards James, looking like he’s ready to cry. Louis thinks Harry looks like it’s the end of his world. And with Harry’s face contorted like that, Louis can feel his own heart breaking, and he thinks it might be the end of his world, too, just a little bit.

So he leaves the rest of them behind, flying towards the door and down the stairs to find Harry.

**

Louis stands with James during the medal ceremony, watching Harry put on a brave face. There’s nothing worse than showing negative emotion at a big scale event. 

“Take him back to the hotel, yeah?” James asks Louis. “Take the team van, and I’ll take care of everyone else. I’ll tell them Harry just needs the night, and we’ll go out as a team tomorrow.”

Louis nods, not sure why Harry is suddenly his responsibility in James’ eyes. 

Regardless, Louis follows Harry into the locker room where he gets dressed in silence, not showing any emotion, and not even addressing Louis’ presence. 

“Come on,” Louis says as he zips up his bag. “We’re going.”

Harry stares at him for a moment, but follows, anyways. 

They make it into the van, Louis guiding Harry inside before letting the driver know it’s just the two of them. Without question, the driver pulls away from the parking spot, taking them back to the hotel. 

The drive is silent; Harry stares out the window, not saying a word. When the driver pulls into the hotel drop off location, Louis thanks him, then helps Harry out, taking his bag for him. They make it all the way up to the room, and Louis still doesn’t know what to say. 

He stands awkwardly in front of his bed, waiting for something, _anything,_ and then Harry turns around and walks right over to Louis with an air of purpose. Almost like he’s going to give Louis that something he didn’t know he was waiting for. 

“Harry,” Louis doesn’t mean to moan his name, but when Harry’s lips are attached to his neck so obscenely, it’s like there’s no other alternative. 

“Shh,” Harry hushes him, barely leaving Louis’ skin for more than a second. 

So Louis shuts up, doesn’t even realize he’s closed his eyes at the warm sensation. He pushes Harry off of him gently, mouth popping off his neck with a smack, guiding him to lie down on his own bed. Harry is quick to pull his shirt over his head as Louis stands and watches.

And with Harry’s eyes hooded and hopeful, this feels very real to Louis. 

He ignores the feeling as he leans in and mouths along Harry’s chest down to his stomach, taking a strange pleasure in marking Harry up where nobody else will be able to see. He breathes Harry in, realizing how perfect this moment is; having Harry under him, responding so physically to his touch.

It’s like fighting for gold even when they’re not fighting for gold.

Louis stops what he’s doing and really, really looks at Harry, who’s just looking at him with pleading eyes. And Louis thinks he’s beautiful like this.

So Louis indulges him, giving him whatever he wants. 

**

_NATIONALS - DAY 7_

Louis wakes up next to Harry, his bare back pressed against Louis’ chest an instant reminder of last night’s events.

He can still hear Harry asking him to _touch him,_ and the way he begged _please, Louis._ He can practically feel Harry’s warm mouth on his skin, and there’s a perfect vision in his mind of Harry, flushed and sweaty. And if he closes his eyes, he can most definitely still taste him on his tongue. 

_What have we done?_

Oddly, this moment makes Louis wish Harry had just kissed him, instead. He knows what Harry’s mouth feels like on his body now, but he feels like he’s already forgetting how his lips feel when they’re pressed against his own. 

Better yet, why couldn’t Harry have just cried into his lap again? 

But no. Louis just had to sleep with him. And it’s right now that he’s realizing, if he thought things were weird before, he’s probably seen nothing yet. 

Harry stirs awake as Louis shifts to get more comfortable. 

“Louis?” He lifts his head off the pillow momentarily, as if to make sure it’s still Louis next to him.

“Mmhmm.”

“Text James,” Harry turns around to face Louis suddenly. “Just tell him we’ll see them for dinner and that’s it.”

“We?” Louis asks.

“Well,” Harry reaches up, using his thumb and index finger to squeeze either side of Louis’ chin, in a moment that feels too tender for their relationship, but just tender enough to match their current position. “I’m not getting out of bed until then. And you’re not going to leave me alone,” he moves his hand from Louis’ chin to cover his cheek. “Right?”

_God._

One problem is that Louis _knows_ Harry is manipulating him. But the bigger problem is that Louis is defenceless against it. 

Louis rolls away from Harry to grab his phone off the nightstand. He types out a text to James, saying exactly what Harry said, minus the part about staying in bed together, then goes into his texts with Zayn, figuring he should send him a message too, after not responding to any of the ones from last night. 

_Is Harry okay??_

_8:47 pm_

_This sucks……._

_8:48 pm_

_Take care of him, Lou_

_8:50 pm_

Louis scoffs, thinking he took care of him, alright.

_Think he’s gonna make it_

_8:17 am_

He puts his phone down and turns back to Harry, who attaches his lips to Louis’ shoulder.

Louis adjusts quickly, props himself on his elbow in a way that forces Harry to stop. 

“Do you want to talk about-”

“Wow, how did I know?” Harry flops onto his back to stare up at the ceiling, before turning his head to look at Louis. “It’s just sex, Louis.”

“Well, I was gonna say nationals but,” Louis tries to shake it off. “Yeah.” 

On Christmas, it was _no big deal._ Now, it’s _just sex._

Realistically, neither of those things are false. So why do the words feel so cutting and treacherous when Harry says them out loud?

Louis moves to get out of the bed, but Harry grabs his wrist carefully. 

“I’m leaving,” Louis says firmly. “You can stay in bed all day. I’ll see you at dinner.”

“Stay,” Harry says simply. “Please.”

Louis just rolls his eyes and tugs his arm away, but somehow feels the magnetic pull back to Harry’s side. He ignores Harry’s grin as he climbs in next to him.

“Fine,” Louis pulls the covers back up, tucking his feet between Harry’s legs. “But I’m going back to sleep.”

“Okay.”

**

“Harry,” Louis sits up abruptly. “Get up!” 

When Harry doesn’t respond fast enough, Louis grips his shoulder and shakes him.

“Get up!”

“What?” Harry asks groggily, not happy at the sudden commotion. 

Louis is still staring at his phone. 

“Lou,” Harry says more seriously, sensing the urgency. “What is it?”

Louis turns his phone screen around, and Harry is suddenly awake. A smile grows on his face that he doesn’t even try to contain, before covering his mouth.

“Get dressed, Harry,” Louis smiles back at him. “We’re going back to the arena.”

Harry doesn’t have to fight again, he just has to present himself to make the change official. 

The two of them get dressed quickly, then run downstairs to meet the rest of the team in the lobby.

“Took you guys long enough,” Zayn says curiously, though it’s overshadowed by his clear happiness for Harry. 

They pile into the van without actually talking about it, as if they’ll jinx it before they get there, and James will receive a follow-up email saying it was all just a prank. 

At the arena, they make their way through the entrance as fast as possible, squeezing through all the people, eventually reaching the check-in table, where Harry is directed inside. The girl at the table says something into her bluetooth, probably letting others know they’ve arrived.

_This is insane._

“Harry Styles?” A man approaches, extending his hand.

“Yes, sir,” Harry grips his hand tightly and shakes before they walk away from the rest of the group.

Once they’re standing at the head table and Harry is filling out the required documentation, Zayn is the one to ask. 

“So,” he says, still watching Harry from afar. “What was it?”

“Mestanolone,” James says casually. “Another competitor reported it anonymously.” 

Louis keeps his eyes on Harry, who finishes up the paperwork and is then ushered towards the podium. They make the announcement of the correction, and the crowd is confused, but clap and cheer regardless.

Harry smiles as he looks over at the team. More specifically, he looks right at Louis. 

_Please don’t._

Louis doesn’t want to be seen by Harry anymore. Not after last night. 

But he’s going to be spending a lot more time with Harry in the next two months. 

Because Louis is going to worlds.

And now, because the universe decided it can never be one without the other, so is Harry. 


	8. april

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> friends?
> 
> also, hl shotgun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're getting so close to the end !! thank you SO MUCH for reading !!

The month moves in a blur. Eat, sleep, train, repeat. Louis, along with Harry, Zayn, and Gigi, train seven days a week. The high from nationals didn’t last very long, knowing worlds are just around the corner. 

Louis may or not be burning himself out. Between teaching his classes and coaching the juniors, trying to keep one driving shift a week so as not to lose the job entirely, and focusing on his own training, he can’t remember the last time he didn’t wake up feeling exhausted. 

Given all that, he doesn’t even have time to think about Harry. 

He doesn’t get to wonder if he’ll ever kiss him again, or what it means that he wonders about that at all. He doesn’t get to remember how his rough, calloused hands felt splayed across his body, or his warm mouth on the softest spots of Louis’ skin. 

Louis isn’t actively trying to forget. But as time goes on, it just starts to happen. 

They still go out, the five of them, but Louis is always the one who needs to call it an early night, his body begging for rest. And if he didn’t drive to wherever they went, Harry is always the first to offer him a ride. 

They just pretend it never happened, really. 

There’s no cockiness to Harry about it; no snide remarks like the first time they kissed. It’s almost like he’s forgetting, too. 

As far as training goes, Harry’s been rather intense lately. It’s like he wants to prove himself as worthy of his spot at worlds, after only winning his division due to a doping scandal. After the gold medalist was disqualified, Harry was declared the winner, but he still doesn’t seem to understand that there’s nothing he could have done to prevent that from being the way he won. Except of course, winning in the first place, though Louis would never say that to him directly. Maybe a few months ago, but not now. 

“Louis,” James calls him over after an exceptionally rough session. 

Louis walks over, already feeling it. He knows he’s going to be sore tomorrow.

“How are you doing?”

“Um,” Louis narrows his eyes. “Fine.”

“Really?” James doesn’t believe him. “I know you’re squeezing in extra training with the other three, even when I’m not here.”

“Yeah,” Louis admits, not sure why this would be a problem all of a sudden.

“Do you want me to take over your classes for a little while? So you can focus on training?”

Louis doesn’t want to. He doesn’t, but he knows it’s the best move.

“That would be great, James,” he smiles. “I would really appreciate it.”

“I thought you might,” James laughs. “You seem really tired or something lately.”

_Tired AND something, actually._

“Yeah, a little.”

“Okay, how about you finish off this week with tomorrow’s junior team and then I’ll take them over next week, yeah?”

Louis nods before heading towards the locker room to get changed and head straight home, ready to collapse into bed. 

**

“Um, Louis,” Alex says shyly at the end of the session. “Can I talk to you about something?”

“Of course,” Louis guides her towards the box office, then closes the door behind her and waits for her to sit down in the chair next to his. “What’s going on?” 

She looks like she might cry.

“Alex,” Louis reaches out for her arm. “It’s alright.”

“It’s just,” her voice shakes. “I think,” she takes a long time to get it out, but Louis waits patiently. 

“I think I like Ava.”

_Huh._

Louis doesn’t know what he was expecting, but that certainly wasn’t it.

Though he supposes maybe it should have been. The girls have been becoming friendlier and friendlier, supporting each other at training and even hanging out outside of the studio. Ava, a little bit older, has been driving Alex around everywhere they go. They whisper secrets and giggle and act like they never hated each other at all. 

“You mean, like having a crush on her?” He clarifies. 

Alex just nods, tears starting to roll down her cheeks. 

“Okay,” Louis says gently. “Alex, honey, why are we crying about that? That’s perfectly fine.”

She shakes her head vehemently. 

“I can’t tell her!”

“Why not?”

Alex takes a deep breath. Louis notices movement out of the corner of his eye, and looks out the glass to see Ava leaving. When she catches Louis’ eye, she smiles and waves, but her smile fades when she sees Alex sitting next to him, crying, and resolutely avoiding her gaze. 

She continues walking, though checks over her shoulder one last time before leaving. 

“Because,” Alex says once she’s gone. “She probably doesn’t like me. She probably doesn’t even like girls.” 

“It’s possible,” Louis tells her honestly. “But how are you going to know if you don’t tell her?” 

Alex looks down, knowing Louis is right but clearly not wanting to say it out loud. Another burst of movement catches Louis’ eye, and when he looks up again, it’s Harry he finds in the dojang this time, waving casually in his direction when he notices Louis looking at him. 

“What about you?” She asks suddenly, trying to take the conversation off of herself.

Louis looks over at her again, not quite processing what she said. “Hmm?” 

“You,” she repeats, looking out at Harry. “And him.”

_Wait._

_No._

_You’re me. You’ve always been like me._

_And if you’re me and Ava is him then..._

_No._

“Uh,” Louis can feel heat rising to his cheeks, and he isn’t even sure why. “What about me and him?”

At this rate, they could go on like this all day. 

“Okay,” Alex giggles, wiping the tears from her face. “Fine. We don’t have to talk about it.” 

“There’s nothing to say, anyways.” Louis shrugs. 

“Yes, there is,” Alex tells him. “There always is. Do you like him?”

Louis doesn’t answer.

“Then you should tell him.”

Louis just looks at her, hating that she’s trying to use his own advice against him.

“Isn’t Ava waiting for you?”

“Yeah,” Alex gets out of her chair. “Probably.”

“Don’t keep her waiting.”

Alex nods before leaving, and Louis waits until she’s out the door to join Harry, not wanting to give Alex any sense of satisfaction. He walks out quietly to where Harry is sitting and waiting for him.

“She alright?” He nods towards the exit.

“Yeah,” Louis sits. “Zayn and Gigi?”

“Not coming today.”

_Of course they aren’t._

“Alright,” Louis continues stretching. “Let’s train, then.”

The two of them work hard. They push each other for the next two hours. The only words that pass between them are those of encouragement.

“Let’s go,” Louis pushes as Harry is kicking the hand targets he’s holding for him. 

“That’s it,” Harry tells Louis as he successfully dodges Harry’s headshot. 

They end up lying on the ground next to each other, during what they intended to be a break, but will turn out to be the end of their session. 

“Hey Louis,” Harry says after they both manage to catch their breath, silence filling the air rather than the sounds of their breathing. 

“Yeah?” 

“What do you want to do after all this ends?”

Louis head whips to look over at Harry, mind panicked. 

“After what ends?” He asks, trying to be calm. 

“You know,” Harry gestures around. “This. We’re probably at our peak, you know.” 

“Harry,” Louis laughs, suddenly much more relaxed upon hearing that. “You’re barely twenty-one. You’re not at your peak.”

Harry shoots him a quick smirk, but then his face drops again.

“Alright, I just mean after that point. What are you going to do?”

Louis inhales deeply. He’s never talked about this with anyone before; always avoiding the conversation when Zayn tries to bring it up. 

“This,” Louis says, looking back up at the ceiling. “This is what I want to do. It’s what I’ve always wanted to do,” he continues, realizing there’s no turning back now. “Open my own studio, maybe. Train some kids.”

Louis looks over at Harry to see him listening and studying his face.

“I gave up everything else,” Louis says softly. “But I suppose you did, too.” 

Harry continues looking at him, then seems to realize something all at once, sitting up abruptly. 

“Hold on,” Harry almost laughs. “Is that why you’ve always hated me so much?”

Louis just sits up slowly and looks at him, not understanding his thought process. 

“You think I’m going to take that away from you? Louis,” he continues, not waiting for Louis’ reaction. “Whether or not I’m better than you, which I am,” he pauses to laugh. “You’re the one who has the passion to teach.”

Louis just nods, not even fully convinced that what Harry’s saying is true. Is that part of the reason he’s always hated him? Is that the only reason his subconscious came up with? 

“Did it never occur to you that I may not want the same thing for my future?” 

Louis stays silent for a moment, though it quickly becomes clear that Harry has nothing else to say. But Louis just doesn’t want the conversation to end. 

“Okay,” Louis nudges Harry’s leg with his foot. “What about you then? Why have you always hated me so much?”

Harry looks at Louis seriously, as if he’s contemplating being honest.

“Would you believe me if I said it’s because of James?”

_No._

But then Louis tries to think back to when they were younger. And he thinks about how he used certain strategies to push Alex and Ava, recognizing that James has used them on him.

_Maybe._

“I don’t know yet,” he says finally. “But go on.”

“Alright,” Harry laughs. “Well, when I first got here, I felt like I needed to prove myself, because everyone was always talking about how you were the best,” he avoids Louis’ eye, as if it pains him to say it out loud. “So I worked hard to be better. James realized that it was you who made me work so hard, and that in turn, I made you work harder, too. And he wanted to capitalize on that.”

Louis nods along, and Harry meets his eye again.

“He basically told me to be an asshole to you, Louis,” he affirms softly. “And I was new, and sixteen, and I just,” he pauses. “I did it. And then…”

“And then?” 

Louis urges him to continue, desperately wanting to know every other thought in his mind.

“And then it just kind of became a routine, I guess. It got comfortable.”

Louis nods, and then something else comes to him all at once. 

“This is all your fault,” he mutters out loud.

“What?”

“No,” Louis waves his hands quickly. “I overheard you saying that to James months ago, sometime last year.”

“Oh,” Harry brings a hand to his neck. “I don’t even remember what happened that night, it was something so small and insignificant. It just broke me,” he pauses. “You broke me.”

Louis feels guilty, though he also doesn’t recall what happened that night. Harry brushes it off and continues.

“Whatever it was, it made me realize how stupid it all was. I thought about how different things could have been, how I could have been friends with you and Zayn this whole time. So I lost it. Blew up on James.”

“And cried?” 

“And cried, yes,” Harry laughs, able to take a joke, especially when he’s talking about something so obviously heavy for him. “I just felt so alone. And James just kind of brushed it off like I could still be the one to fix it because he never intended for it to go on for this long.”

“So,” things keep turning in Louis’ mind. “Valentine’s day.”

Harry looks down at his hands, twiddling with his fingers. 

“It’s not my fault,” he says, still looking down.

Louis doesn’t think twice as he reaches out with his hand, tilting Harry’s chin up to look at him.

“It’s not your fault.”

Harry smiles softly, then looks back down, and Louis pulls his hand away. 

“So.”

“So,” Louis echoes. “Friends?”

Harry laughs.

“Friends?” 

_Oh no._

Harry’s face drops slightly, but he presses on in Louis’ silence.

“That’s what you want?” 

Louis feels like he’s walking into a trap, but swallows hard and nods anyways. 

“Alright,” Harry says. “Friends.”

**

That’s the thing about routines; they’re subject to change, though it can be difficult to adapt. 

And as it turns out, being friends requires practice. Harry will make a snide comment and then immediately gloss right over it, trying to pretend he didn’t. Louis will catch himself glaring and need to remind himself to unclench his jaw. All those things that had once felt so necessary suddenly just don’t anymore, and it’s like neither of them can fully grasp how to deal with that. Realistically, the amount of time they’re spending together is both beneficial and detrimental. 

But Louis supposes it’s all about context. 

At the gym, they’re competitive and biting and still need to learn how to give up their pride at times. But outside of training, it feels easy and natural, even. Louis can throw his arm around Harry at the bar the same way he would Zayn, getting weird looks only from Zayn and not Harry, since he’s too busy leaning into it. He lets himself laugh at Harry’s jokes even when nobody else finds them funny. 

Being alone with Harry at the gym still means complete silence as they work. But being alone with Harry in his car, or at his apartment, or anywhere else, really, means long conversations about nothing and everything and Louis finds himself continuing to learn and pick up on little things about Harry.

Like the way he shakes out his hair as a solution any time it gets in his face. Or how he tends to lean more to his left when he’s standing. And how he slows his speech when he’s thinking about something, or just really tired. 

The sudden change-ups are the hardest part, really. And they’re starting to drive Louis crazy. He can’t help but feel a slight resentment towards James, and that might be the hardest part. 

James has given Louis _everything_ , but all those years ago, he also took away something so important. 

Any time he even starts to think about James telling sixteen year old Harry how to act around him, Louis feels something burning in his chest. It finally bubbles over and spills out during his next individual session. 

James seems to sense Louis’ mind is elsewhere. 

“What’s going on?” James asks suddenly between drills. 

“Nothing,” Louis lies, trying to hold it back, not wanting to explode harshly, though he figures it’s inevitable at this point. 

“We both know that’s not true. Is it Harry? You guys seem better lately.”

That seems to do it.

“Yeah, actually, it is Harry,” he says, turning to face James completely now. “But it isn’t really him, you know?”

James tilts his head slightly in confusion.

“Did you basically tell him he couldn’t be friends with me? When he started?”

“Louis…”

“Did you?”

“Yeah,” James sighs. “I guess so. It was supposed to help the both of you.”

“Were you that oblivious?” Louis yells, arms thrown in the air. “Could you not see what it was actually doing to us?”

James just nods. “Louis, you have to know how bad I felt. I could tell how much it was starting to affect Harry after a little while.”

But Louis isn’t going to let him off that easily; he’s on a roll now. 

“How long is a little while? Do you just mean that night last year when he blew up at you?”

“I knew before then,” he insists. “But I also knew I deserved it that day. He needed someone to take it out on.”

“Right,” Louis says sharply. “Which was normally me, and you were always fine with that.”

“I just kept hoping the two of you would be able to work it on your own. I didn’t want to step in.”

“And by step in,” Louis muses. “You mean admit it was your fault.”

“No,” he denies, but then changes his mind. “I guess so.” 

Louis feels his jaw clench, shaking his head, still feeling so angry. 

“I’m sorry, Louis,” James says then. “I really didn’t mean for it to be like this.” 

_He gave me everything._

_Everything I have is because of James._

_Because of him._

Louis tries to remind himself over and over, but the sadder side of his mind wins.

“You took him away from me.”

At the feeling of hot tears forming in the corners of his eyes, Louis shakes his head and turns around, deciding he’s done for the day. James calls after him, but Louis just pushes into the locker room, quickly gathering his things before running out.

He doesn’t want to go home, but he doesn’t want to be here, either. 

Outside the sliding glass door, Louis bumps into Harry.

“Louis,” Harry grabs his arm, trying to stop him in his complete rush. 

Louis tries to push past, keeping his head down, but Harry remains in his way.

“Lou,” he says softer once he sees Louis’ face. “What’s wrong?” 

Louis looks up at him, face stinging.

Before, Harry made Louis’ heart beat faster out of anger. Now, the lines are blurring, and suddenly, he’s not sure what it means when it feels like his heart is in his throat.

Could Harry just stop looking at him like that?

All he knows is that he doesn’t want to deal with it, knows he can’t right now. So he tries to focus on something else.

“Stop calling me that.”

But here’s Harry, standing in front of him, really trying to be his friend. When he lets go of Louis’ arm and wipes his tears, he’s being his friend. When he asks if Louis is alright, he’s being his friend. And when he slings his arm around Louis’ shoulder and says _I’m taking you home_ , Louis has to remind himself that he only means it as a friend, and then ignore the slight, inexplicable pain that comes with that reminder.

**

“Are you going to tell me why you left training so upset?” Harry asks, sitting himself down on Louis’ couch.

Louis watches the motion that appears so ordinary, wondering how he makes it look so natural.

Harry’s never been here before. Or at least, he’s never been inside. But still, he sits as if he’s sat there countless times before. 

“Honestly,” Louis sits down. “Probably not.”

Harry just hums. ”I guess I should text James-”

“No!”

If James tells Harry what Louis said, Louis isn’t sure he could ever face Harry again.

_You took him away from me._

“I mean,” Harry looks at Louis, suddenly even more concerned than before. “I didn’t show up to my individual training. I need some sort of reason.” 

“Oh,” Louis nods, ripping his eyes away. “Right.” 

“Do you want me to go?”

“I don’t know,” Louis says, completely honestly. 

He doesn’t know. Everything with Harry is always such a puzzle, lately. Does he want him to go? Kind of. It’s his apartment, where he’s supposed to be alone. But does he really want him to go? Not really. He doesn’t _want_ to be alone. 

Before he can think any further, Louis’ phone rings, Zayn’s name lighting up the screen. 

Louis excuses himself as he answers, walking towards his bedroom, standing in the doorway. 

“Louis,” Zayn says from the other end. “What’s going on man? Harry texted me.”

“He did?” Louis whispers, looking over at Harry, still sitting on his couch. 

“Yeah, he seemed really worried. Are you alright?”

When Harry turns to look at Louis, a soft smile tugging on his lips, Louis turns away. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he confirms. “I’ll tell you about it later. Thanks, Zayn.”

Louis hangs up and returns to where Harry is still sitting on his couch as if he belongs there, and he sits down right next to him, almost like they’re supposed to be there together. 

And Harry just sits in silence, knowing he doesn’t need to say anything when Louis is sitting right next to him.

Louis thinks Harry can be a pretty good friend.

**

“So,” Zayn reiterates over dinner. “You guys actually agreed to be friends?”

“Yeah,” Louis drags his fork around his plate. 

“But you don’t sound too enthused about it,” Zayn notes.

_I don’t know._

“Louis.”

“Hmm?” 

“Give it some time. Then give it a chance.”

Louis thinks Zayn knows.

For months now, Zayn’s been the one telling Louis he just wants him to be happy; talking about how he didn’t want Louis to ruin things for himself and how he can’t let his head rule his heart. 

In Louis’ head, things are good.

So why does his heart still feel like something isn’t quite right?

**

Louis knows he shouldn’t.

He knows they’re not supposed to drink anymore until after worlds. Anytime they’ve gone out as a five piece lately, Niall and Liam don’t drink, either, so everyone is on the same page.

But.

Louis just feels so fucking empty. 

And after he’s had one too many drinks at Liam’s bar, he still feels empty. The feeling doesn’t go away, but at least he can’t remember why. 

He doesn’t even feel weird about drinking alone. This bar has become a piece of his space, and it’s like all the other patrons are just visitors, so they don’t get a say in what he does. It’s his space.

Louis picks numbly at the fries he ordered, long gone cold, not having touched them yet. 

He decides he’s done. He fumbles with his phone to order a taxi, punching in Zayn’s address. The car arrives not long later, and he leaves cash on the table before slipping out into the cold and into the backseat of the taxi. 

“Just you?” The driver turns around to ask.

“Just me.”

He stares out the window the whole ride, only speaking to thank the driver when he pulls up at Zayn’s building. Louis jumps out, moving quickly to the entrance, his numb fingers punching in Zayn’s dial code. Upon hearing Louis’ voice, Zayn buzzes him in. He takes the elevator up and goes directly to Zayn’s door, turning the handle and finding it unlocked for him. 

_Harry._

Louis remembers now why he feels so empty. 

_Fucking Harry._

“What are you doing here?” He mumbles, stepping right past Zayn. 

“We were all gonna hang out tonight,” Harry says casually. “You would know that if you had checked the group chat.”

Louis’ been mostly avoiding his messages for a while now. 

“God, Louis,” Harry says suddenly. “Are you drunk?”

“No.”

“You know what James said-”

“I don’t give a fuck what James said,” Louis cuts him off.

Zayn is still standing by the door with Liam, who Louis hadn’t even noticed when he first walked in. His tunnel vision went straight to the source of all his problems, standing in the centre of the room. 

“And,” Louis adds, leaning in close to Harry, desperate to feel close to someone. “We’re not friends.”

Harry just looks at him and Louis steps closer, desperate to feel close to _Harry_. 

“We’re trying, Lou.”

“Stop calling me that,” Louis pushes Harry’s stomach. “We’re not friends.” 

“Okay,” Harry takes a small step back, trying to respond correctly to the way Louis pushes him away, but Louis follows. He stumbles briefly, Harry catching him by the arms and helping him upright. 

Harry’s grip on his arms has Louis feeling dizzier than anything else.

“I don’t want to be friends,” Louis murmurs.

“You don’t?” Harry asks quietly.

“Harry,” Louis hears Zayn say from somewhere distant. “He’s…” 

Louis knows Zayn keeps talking, but he doesn’t hear anything else. He tunes it out in favour of focusing on the way it feels to have Harry’s eyes looking into his own. 

“I don’t want to be friends,” Louis repeats, firmer this time. 

Harry releases his hold on Louis’ arms.

“I don’t believe you,” and then, like it’s nothing, “now let’s get you home.”

**

The next day, Zayn comes over to Louis’ in the afternoon and chews him out for drinking. But behind what he’s actually saying out loud, he’s chewing Louis out for something else; not going to him when things got heavy.

“Zayn,” Louis interrupts his rant, figures he might as well spit it out and get it over with, before he can think better of it. “We had sex. And I haven’t been the same since.”

Louis doesn’t actually fully believe that last part. He thinks he’s been different for a while, now.

“Oh,” Zayn hits the brakes on his speech. “When?”

“At nationals,” Louis sighs. “The night he lost.”

“Oh,” Zayn says again. 

“Yeah.”

“So what does it mean?”

_I don’t know._

“Nothing to him.”

Zayn raises his eyebrows. 

“And to you?”

Louis pauses. 

_I don’t know._

“Nothing.” 

**

The next time Louis sees Harry, it’s at his and Niall’s apartment for dinner with the rest of the boys. Harry avoids his eye like it’s what he knows best, and in some ways, Louis supposes that’s true. 

They eat what Harry cooked, scattered in the living room. Louis collects plates when they’re all done, taking them over to the sink so he can avoid the debate about what movie to watch. 

He kind of hopes Harry will follow him, but he doesn’t.

So Louis scrapes the plates and washes them in the sink on his own, and when he finishes, he walks back into the living room, where everyone is still caught up in scrolling for a movie.

Louis decides to quite literally take matters into his own hands, gently grabbing Harry’s arm and dragging him off the couch and down the hallway towards his room where they’re just out of view. Nobody seems to notice, eyes still glued to the TV. 

“Hey,” Harry says.

Louis nods, but before he can say anything, Harry goes on.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

“For what?” 

Louis shakes his head, not even acting confused, because he genuinely doesn’t know what Harry is apologizing for. Normally, the confusion would be because the list is too long for Louis to choose from. But right now, it’s because Louis can’t think of a single reason. 

“I don’t know,” Harry answers quietly. “Everything.” 

Louis hates that he needs two hands to count how many times he’s seen Harry actually being vulnerable recently. 

“I feel like I’ve messed everything up.”

And well, that’s not a sentence Louis thought he would ever hear come out of Harry’s mouth. Especially not right now, when Louis was meant to be the one apologizing to him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Louis shrugs. 

“Well, I guess sleeping together is the biggest thing.”

Louis thinks back to Harry’s words.

“It’s just sex, Harry,” he tells him, hoping his voice doesn’t come off as bitter as it sounds in his head. “Besides,” he continues, trying not to give Harry very long to think about it. “That was before we agreed to be friends.”

Harry bites his bottom lip quickly before letting it go, but to Louis it happens in slow motion. He shifts his gaze back up from Harry’s lips to his eyes.

“Yeah,” Harry smiles softly. “Right.” 

“Anyways,” Louis laughs it off. “I was going to say I’m sorry about the other night. I didn’t mean what I said.”

_Or maybe I did._

_Somehow._

“Good,” Harry smiles a little bigger. 

“Hey,” Niall yells, interrupting them. “Whenever you guys are done making out over there, we’re ready.”

Louis just glares at Harry, who grins sheepishly. 

Louis rolls his eyes and flips him off as he starts to walk towards the living room, but Harry stops him with a hand on his waist, spinning him back around. Louis gasps, almost inaudible but not quite.

“For the record,” Harry says, smile gone, voice turned darker. “I told him because I couldn’t stop thinking about it.” 

_But we’re just friends._

“Oh.” 

“Stay over tonight?” Harry asks quietly, tracing his fingertips up along Louis’ arm. 

“I’m not,” Louis says. “I’m not sleeping with you, if that’s what you’re after.” 

Louis thinks maybe he just should. Sleep with him again, that is. Harry is making it more and more clear that it’s something he enjoyed, too, and if they can keep up the _it’s just sex_ mentality, they can go on being friends.

But Louis knows that’s not the case. Not when things already feel so complicated. 

“It’s not,” Harry laughs. “Promise. Just kind of want you here,” he smiles. “Friends.”

“Guys,” Niall calls. “Seriously, we’re in the next room.” 

How is Louis supposed to say no? 

_It’s easy, actually. Just say no._

But with Harry’s fingers tracing his exposed skin so gently, and his green eyes so bright, it’s a lot harder than it should be.

“Yeah,” he smiles, looking down. “Alright.” 

As it turns out, they all end up crashing overnight. But Louis is the only one who gets to share a bed with Harry. 

**

Louis knows he needs to face James again, so he decides to go in at the end of the junior training session, which ends an hour before their team training starts. 

He waits in the entrance as the juniors are dismissed. They all come over to see Louis before heading to the locker rooms. 

“I can’t believe you’re going to worlds next month!”

“Are you excited?”

“How much are you all training?”

“Woah,” Louis laughs. “I’m excited and nervous. You’ll all have to watch from home, yeah?”

The group nods emphatically, before chatting some more. Eventually, they run out of questions for conversation and start heading towards the locker rooms.

Alex stays, and Louis gives her a knowing smile.

“So?”

“So?” She echoes cheekily.

“Any news for me?”

“No,” she doesn’t stop smiling, though. “I just want to wait a little longer, I think.” 

Louis hears Zayn’s voice in his head:

_Give it some time._

“Yeah,” Louis smiles. “That’s alright.”

_Give it a chance._

And when he looks up, Ava is waiting for her just a few feet away from where he and Alex are standing. Louis nods in her direction, sending Alex off. She goes running over, slowing down as she approaches Ava. Louis watches as Ava throws her arm around Alex’s shoulder, and then throws her head back, laughing at something Alex says. 

“They’ve come a long way, huh?”

Louis turns to look at James. 

“They have.” 

A silent acknowledgement passes between them. 

“I’m sorry for the other night, James.” 

James gestures for him to head towards the box office so they can talk, and Louis follows. Once they’re inside, Louis starts over. 

“I’m sorry,” he exhales. “I really let my emotions get the best of me and I shouldn’t have. You’ve given me so much and I’m grateful. I shouldn’t-”

“No, Louis,” James cuts him off. “It doesn’t have to be one or the other. You’re allowed to be upset with me for the decisions I made that affected you.” 

“I could have dealt with it better,” Louis says, still feeling like he was in the wrong, at least a little bit. 

“Sometimes you need to just let things out,” James smiles at him. “But what’s important is-”

“If you say intro-”

“Introspection,” James laughs. “You have to be able to ask yourself why something makes you feel the way it does.”

“Well,” Louis shrugs. “I don’t want to. Not this time. Not yet.”

By the time Zayn, Gigi and Harry show up, Louis is already warming up, with a lighter feeling in his heart than the one he left with the last time he was here. 

**

The training sessions only get longer and longer, the nights getting later and later. One exceptionally gruelling night, they end up training past midnight, losing track of time as the hours dragged on.

“Go home,” James tells them, looking at the clock. “It’s late. I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.” 

They all trudge towards the locker rooms, bodies feeling defeated. 

“Do you guys wanna crash at mine?” Gigi asks. “Considering we all have to be back in twelve hours, anyways.”

They all agree, heading out together, slipping into Gigi’s car. 

“I’m so tired,” Zayn says, just talking out loud. 

“Me too,” Harry agrees quietly from next to Louis in the backseat.

And while none of them live that far from the gym, the drive to Gigi’s feels particularly long. But Louis thinks it might just be due to the added weight of Harry’s head on his shoulder as he sleeps. 

**

At Gigi’s, she and Zayn take her room, leaving Harry and Louis to the guest room, and neither of them complain. Gigi might think it’s because they're just so exhausted, but really, Louis doesn’t mind, and he doesn’t think Harry does, either.

Harry is also half-asleep, so there’s that. He may or may not even be aware of what's happening.

The thing is, they’ve always done this. Whenever training gets more serious the later they go into the season, they basically end up all living together, bouncing between apartments. They may stay at one person’s place for days at a time, or sometimes it’s a new place every night, but either way, they’re all together. 

None of them have ever shied away from staying in a room or even a bed together. What’s different now though is that there’s no version they have to avoid, whereas before, Harry and Louis wouldn’t even share a room. Louis would share a bed with Zayn, and Harry would often end up on the couch while the girls all shared. Looking back, Louis realizes Harry never complained about that, either. 

And now, Louis is guiding Harry through the guest room, sitting him down on the bed. 

“Hold on,” Louis tells him. “I’m going to go see if Zayn has stuff here we can wear.”

Louis walks back out into the hallway, walking towards Gigi’s room. He stops just outside the door when he hears them giggling inside.

“I don’t know, Zayn,” she whispers. “I really think he might.” 

“I think it’s the same for Lou.” 

As much as Louis wants to know what they’re talking about, he also doesn’t. So he knocks on the door, waiting for them to acknowledge him.

“Hey,” Louis says, trying to act as if he didn’t hear anything. Realistically, he has no context, anyways, but he still knows it was about him. “I was just wondering if maybe me and Harry could borrow something to wear.”

Zayn smiles, standing up and walking over to Gigi’s closet, where he reaches in and grabs some sweatpants.

“That’s all I’ve got,” he shrugs. “But it’s better than sleeping in jeans.”

“Thanks,” Louis smiles. “Goodnight.”

They tell him goodnight as he walks back out and down the hall towards the guest room. Back towards Harry. When he walks in, he finds Harry sitting right where he left him, smiling when his tired eyes land on Louis. 

“Here,” Louis throws the sweatpants at him. “You can wear these to bed.” 

Harry catches them lazily and sets them on the bed next to him, reaching for his pants button. Louis turns away awkwardly to change his own, and he can hear Harry laughing softly behind him. 

“Don’t want to see me naked again?” 

Louis just ignores the comment, along with the warmth in his cheeks, and only turns around again once he’s changed. He finds Harry changed, too, jeans discarded on the ground beside the bed. He looks at Louis and just puts his arms straight up, causing Louis to raise an eyebrow before finally figuring out what he wants. 

“You can take your own shirt off you weirdo,” he walks towards Harry and nudges him. “Now move over. You know this is my side.” 

Harry just does what he’s told, moving to the other side of the bed and then taking his own shirt off. Louis does the same, tossing it to the floor with Harry’s. He lies down next to Harry, back towards him. In such a small bed, they somehow manage to distance themselves enough not to touch. 

“Louis?”

And Louis just knows _._ So he rolls over and wraps an arm around Harry’s body, closing the distance between them that felt too far to begin with and earning a hum from Harry. 

“Goodnight.”

**

“Alright, guys,” James gathers them after only thirty minutes of intensity. “I don’t want to push you too hard today after last night. But we do need to stay on track, so we’re not done yet.”

Everyone nods along, staying completely focused and in the zone when they’re training.

“We only have a few weeks left, really. One month.”

Louis still can’t quite believe he’s even going. That the four of them are all going, together. 

“For the rest of today’s session, I want you all to focus on one thing only, and that’s footwork.”

Considering footwork is arguably the most important aspect of fighting, it’s essential they work on it frequently. Louis supposes it’s been a little while and it’s probably about time. So they all line up in front of the mirror and on their own time, shift into their stance, bouncing on the balls of their feet.

Louis works on shortening and lengthening his stance, knowing he needs to adapt based on the size of his opponent. He switches to the opposite side, knowing full well he’s more comfortable with his left leg in front, but needs to be able to do both. He shuffles forwards, backwards and sideways. 

By the end of the afternoon, his calves are sore. 

When he gets home, he heats up some leftovers from the day before yesterday, runs himself a hot bath, then sits alone in his bed until it’s time to sleep. 

But what was once his routine now feels like the abnormal occurrence. 

He’s spent so much time around other people lately, more nights sleeping somewhere that isn’t his own bed, that he doesn’t just feel alone in his apartment anymore. Louis could always handle being alone.

But now he feels lonely. And Louis doesn’t know how to handle that. 

**

With only a few days left in the month, Niall sends a message to the group chat while he’s still at work, asking if they want to get together when he’s done. Everybody had some sort of reason why they couldn’t, except for Louis.

A few minutes later, Louis gets a private text from Niall, asking if he wants to do something. It takes Louis by surprise. It doesn’t feel like that long ago that Niall called him out for asking him to hangout, when it was rather clear he just wanted to ask about Harry. 

But Louis supposes they’re really friends now. Friends that can hang out together even when the rest of the group can’t. 

On his way out from Niall’s, Louis runs into Harry in the hallway, coming home from training.

“Oh,” he seems surprised to find him there at all, but then diverts his attitude. “You’re not staying?” 

Louis sends him a small smile.

“Not tonight, Haz.”

Harry smiles at the name Louis hadn’t even realized slipped out of his mouth again. 

“See you tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” Louis promises. 

**

Harry texts Louis in the morning, asking if he wants to meet him at the gym a little earlier so they can train just the two of them before Zayn, Gigi and James show up.

_Don’t you think we’d be tired_

_10:33 am_

Harry responds quickly.

_Probably_

_10:34 am_

_But don’t you think we train well together_

_10:34 am_

Louis knows he’s right. He’s productive when he works with Harry. Even now that they’re moving past their years of pointless feuding, they still know how to push each other to be better. 

_So… 7?_

_10:35 am_

Louis has to wait a few minutes for a response. He finds himself pacing aimlessly.

_7\. So I’ll pick you up at 6:30 :)_

_10:43 am_

Louis spends the morning doing some household chores, realizing the mess that seems to mysteriously collect while he’s away. When he finishes, he finds he’s rather bored, so he picks up an afternoon driving shift just for the sake of it. 

He does his rounds, going from restaurants to homes over and over, grateful every time a delivery pops up that isn’t Nick. But with his luck, that’s exactly the address that pops up towards the end of his shift.

Louis doesn’t even think about it for a second. Maybe a few weeks ago, he would have been curious. Maybe he would want to see him again just to continue on with his light implication that he and Harry are together, just to get a reaction; drive him a little mad.

But not anymore. 

So Louis hits decline, punches out of his shift, closes the app and goes home to wait for Harry. 

**

Their evening training goes smoothly; Louis and Harry warm up and stretch together, and they’re doing some shield kicking drills when Zayn and Gigi walk in. They stop what they’re working on to say hello, but then get right back into it. They only stop once James walks in, to take a small break before they really get started for the night. 

Harry puts his hand out in front of him, as if Louis’ holding something out to drop in his hand. But Louis is quick to realize what he’s waiting for, so he high-fives him downwards, fingertips brushing as their hands collide. 

They go get some water, then return to the centre of the gym to stretch once more with Zayn and Gigi after they run a few laps. James gathers them after that, giving them each something to work on individually for the first hour while he moves between them to make corrections. For Zayn, that means one hour of working on his new freestyle routine, while everyone else works on one of their weaknesses in sparring.

At the end of the hour, they do some partner drills before working on some actual matches. They rotate on and off, so everyone does their drills with everyone else, and they all spar each other, as well, practicing quick adaptation. 

After James dismisses them, he asks Harry to stay back and talk to him in the box office. Harry sends Louis a nervous look, but Louis just shakes his head in reassurance, though he also has no idea what it’s about. Outside the locker rooms, the three of them decide to stay at Zayn’s, reasoning that he feels bad for leaving Liam alone more often than not lately. Liam says he understands, but surely he must feel lonely when he gets home from work.

Louis nods along, though zones out pondering the idea of living with someone who wants to make sure you’re not alone at home all the time. 

“Louis? Is that alright?” 

“Yeah,” he turns his attention back to the conversation with Zayn’s help. “Sounds good. I’ll just wait for H.”

Zayn doesn’t say anything, but his face doesn’t change either. Louis hates the silence.

“He drove me, so.”

“Oh,” Zayn nods, as if it answers all his questions. 

Gigi fills the next silence.

“Okay,” she grabs Zayn’s arm gently. “So why don’t we head out now? We can shower at yours,” she says to Zayn before turning to Louis. “You guys shower here and then meet us there when you’re done.” 

Louis smiles at them, then walks into the locker room with Zayn.

“You know,” Louis laughs. “You and Gigi are so cute.” 

“I do know, actually,” Zayn laughs, too. “I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

Zayn just grabs all of his stuff and walks out, leaving Louis in the locker room on his own. He grabs his change of clothes and a towel, then heads straight for the showers. Harry only walks in as Louis is walking out of the shower.

“We’re going to Zayn’s tonight,” Louis says, not paying much attention to Harry just standing in the doorway as he packs his bag.

The silence is what makes him look up. 

“Are you alright? What was that about?”

“Nothing,” Harry shakes his head. “Just wanted to check in with how I’m doing,” he pauses. “You know, with the division change and everything.”

Louis nods, though he isn’t fully convinced Harry’s telling the truth. But he also knows the division change is a delicate line to walk with the increase in training, so it’s possible that’s really all it was.

Harry moves closer before deeply inhaling. Louis steps back, bewildered.

“What are you doing, you freak?” He laughs. 

“Can I use your shampoo? It smells so good,” Harry reaches up and runs his fingers through Louis’ wet hair. “Please?”

Louis just looks at him for a moment before sighing. “I guess. Friends share,” he laughs as he opens his bag and grabs his small bottle, handing it to Harry.

Harry just smiles dopily and goes to his locker to get his things. 

“Wait for me,” he calls from the stall.

“Don’t have much choice,” Louis laughs. 

When they get to Gigi’s, the smell of fresh pizza wafts through the apartment, cooked by Liam in anticipation of their arrival. They start eating pretty much the second Harry and Louis walk in the door. Casually, while they eat, Gigi directs the conversation to the two of them.

“I’m so happy you guys can get along now,” she smiles, and Louis notices the way Zayn not-so-subtly elbows her under the table.

“Yeah,” Harry runs a hand through his hair. “I feel less stressed.” 

Louis didn’t know he ever stressed Harry out. He laughs, anyways.

“Yeah,” he says, then quieter, he adds, “it’s nice.”

He doesn’t miss the way Zayn raises his eyebrows at Gigi as if to say _I told you so._

When they’re getting ready for bed, Zayn and Gigi stick to the washroom in Zayn’s bedroom, leaving Harry and Louis to take turns in the one across the hall from Liam’s room. When Liam offered to take the couch so they could have a more comfortable bed, the two of them denied hard and long enough for him to give up. He had tried arguing that he was just happy they were around for the night so he didn’t mind, but they didn’t let him get away with it. So they’ll be sharing the couch. 

Louis finishes up brushing his teeth and rinses the brush, setting it down on the counter. Right at that moment, Harry swoops in and grabs the brush, covering it in more toothpaste. 

“What are you doing?” 

But Harry’s already got the brush in his mouth.

“Brushing my teeth,” he says casually. “Forgot to pack a brush in my overnight bag.”

Louis just stares at him. What is he even supposed to say?

“You said friends share,” Harry says carefully, trying not to spit toothpaste from his very full mouth. “Right, Louis?”

A little bit of toothpaste dribbles down the side of Harry’s mouth, and Louis can’t tear his eyes away as his tongue pokes out so carefully to reach it. 

“Not toothbrushes, you monster,” Louis hates that he’s laughing.

Why is he laughing? Why does he let Harry get away with so much? 

Harry just turns away and nods at him through the mirror before spitting into the sink and rinsing the brush. He walks out of the bathroom before Louis does, and Louis knows he just wants to be the first on the couch, determining the space he takes up. 

A few minutes later, they’re squirming around on the couch, trying to get comfortable on opposite ends. But Harry’s long legs are in the way, and Louis just can’t work around it as he shifts his body under the covers. 

“Okay,” he says finally. “This isn’t working.” 

Harry stops moving. 

“So come here, then.”

Louis sits up to look at him, trying to figure out what Harry’s telling him to do. He rolls his eyes as he realizes, but crawls over anyways. He tucks himself close to Harry, pulling the blanket back up to his chest, bunching it up in his hand. 

“You better not push me off the couch,” Louis murmurs against Harry’s chest.

“No promises,” Harry says, but still wraps his arm tightly around Louis’ waist, pulling him impossibly closer on the narrow couch.

“Jerk,” Louis whispers. 

Harry’s lips ghost over Louis’ forehead, and it’s the last thing Louis feels before falling asleep. 

**

In the morning, Louis wakes up to the natural light coming in through the patio glass. He blinks his eyes open and realizes they’re in the same exact position they fell asleep in. Harry’s eyebrows are pinched in his sleep, and Louis resists the temptation to reach up and touch his face. 

Even without touching him, it’s like Harry could sense Louis was thinking about it, because he groans softly in his sleep and squeezes Louis tighter. 

Louis hears footsteps padding towards the living room and he figures his best bet is to close his eyes and pretend he’s still asleep.

“I know you’re awake, Louis,” Zayn whispers. “And I’m not saying anything.”

“Good,” Louis whispers quietly, but unsuccessfully, because Harry is shifting awake beside him. 

“Good morning,” he says, eyes landing on Louis’ when they open.

Louis jokingly pulls his head back. “You need to brush your teeth.”

“Mm,” Harry says, lips together. “With your toothbrush, so.” 

“Harry stop,” Louis says through giggles as Harry continues trying to pull him close and breathe in his face. “You’re so gross.”

“You’re both gross,” Zayn calls casually from the kitchen, startling Harry, who stops immediately.

They get off the couch and continue with their day. 

**

The rest of the month seems to whiz by even faster than the start. Every day, Louis wonders to himself about where the time is going. He spends a morning at a local tournament, watching Alex and Ava compete in team freestyle, James deciding to test the waters to see how well they could do. They leave with bronze, and Louis figures it’s a good start. 

Louis is constantly playing catch-up on his admin work for James, and still trying to consistently work driving shifts through the week. He trains every day, and spends most nights in the company of his teammates. 

Mostly, he just still can’t believe they’re training for worlds. It feels like a dream that in less than one month, they’ll be getting on a plane to Paris. Part of his admin work now is working with James to organize everything, and if he puts his name on a ticket in the seat next to Harry’s for the ten hour flight, nobody else needs to know. And when James asks him awkwardly how close he’s gotten to Harry, Louis knows what he’s really asking, so he tells James that yes, they can cut the cost and get one divided room with two beds. 

He also starts packing already, trying to figure out which clothing to bring. They’re going to be there for more than a week, meaning Louis needs to bring a wide variety from his wardrobe. 

James orders them new uniforms, too. He takes their measurements at one of their training sessions, then goes to their provider and orders fancier doboks. Zayn ends up getting two, one for each event. When they arrive, not taking long given they only need five, they try them on and admire them in the studio. When Louis gets home that night, he hangs it up in his closet, not daring to touch it again until it’s time to pack his equipment bag. 

Niall and Liam have been extremely accommodating, doing everything they can to make sure everything is normal and relaxed while they’re around. That means dinners and movies and nights on the patio as the weather gets nicer. It also means giving in one night when Louis suggests they have a smoke outside. 

“Aren’t you like,” Liam starts. “Not supposed to?” 

“It’s not recommended,” Louis corrects him. “Just one night.”

So they light up, sharing a joint on the patio. Louis feels particularly affectionate as the cannabis calms his mind, so he crawls from lap to lap. As he snuggles up with Zayn, he looks over at Harry, who’s got his head back in his chair, looking up at the sky. Louis thinks he looks cute when he’s out of it. Or maybe it’s just that all of his features seem a little more delicate under the moon. Or maybe it’s just Harry. 

Louis can’t be sure. 

“Thanks for being my best friends,” Louis says, not realizing he said it out loud at all until Niall responds.

“You’re such a sap,” he laughs. “But, yeah.” 

“I agree,” Harry smiles. “I’m so much happier than I used to be,” he says slowly. 

“You were sad before?” Louis frowns, studying the intricate details of Harry’s face. 

But Louis already knows that. So he isn’t really sure what answer he’s looking for. Everybody remains silent, watching the two of them watch each other. 

The answer doesn’t come, anyways. At least, not in words. But Louis thinks maybe he can see it in Harry’s eyes. Like it’s only for him. So Louis moves to his feet, getting out of Zayn’s lap, and walks around the table to take a spot in Harry’s, who accepts him like it’s where he should have been the whole time. 

“That’s something I never thought I’d see,” Niall says.

“This is normal now,” Zayn says casually, joint hanging between his fingers. “Should have seen them on our couch the other day.” 

Louis ignores the comment and just focuses on the feeling of sitting with Harry. A year ago, this never would have happened. But right now, all he can think about is how comfortable he is. 

He reaches out across the table to take the joint from Zayn, putting it between his lips as he sits back. And then he notices Harry’s eyes focused on his mouth. Louis watches the way Harry’s jaw relaxes, mouth opening slightly. 

“No fucking way.”

Louis can’t even say for sure who spoke, his ears completely clouded, too caught up in the way Harry is waiting for him. Nobody else is there right now, not in his mind. 

With one hand, Louis removes the joint from his mouth, while the other reaches for Harry’s mouth, thumb tugging down on his bottom lip. Harry just leans into it, closing his eyes. When Louis finally exhales, blowing smoke into Harry’s mouth, he opens his eyes again and Louis notices how glossy they are when he’s high. 

Harry closes his mouth afterwards, and continues looking at Louis, who just smiles down at him before getting up and making his way back into Zayn’s lap. 

“Wow, Louis,” Zayn whispers as Louis makes himself comfortable. “Way to tease him.”

“Hmm?” 

Louis looks over and sees Harry squirming uncomfortably in his seat, but diverts his eyes before Harry can realize he’s noticed. 

He hopes he’ll forget when he’s sober again. 

**

“So,” Zayn says the next day at Louis’ apartment before they head out to the gym. “Are you going to tell Harry?”

“Tell Harry what?” Louis asks as he packs his bag for training.

Zayn stays silent for a moment. 

“Never mind,” he finally says, brushing it off with a hand gesture when Louis looks up from his bag. “Let’s just go.” 

Louis doesn’t spend another second thinking about Zayn’s question. 

He focuses on his training, because that’s the only thing he can afford to focus on right now. And sure, maybe his attention is pulled away momentarily any time Harry says anything, or laughs loudly, or does anything with his hands, but that’s not his fault; they may be friends and they may know how to be civil, but Harry is still Harry, and that means he’s still obnoxious. Every motion has the intent of drawing attention from other people, and it’s his fault, not Louis’. 

That’s what Louis tells himself any time he finds his eyes wandering over to Harry, just to see what he’s doing. 

They end up at Harry’s apartment that night, and Louis spends even more time just watching Harry, realizing it may have become an accidental habit. It’s not his fault Harry floats through a room so elegantly; he just draws eyes to him naturally. But any time Louis looks over to check if Zayn and Gigi notice too, he finds their eyes on him instead of where they should be, on Harry.

 _Look at him,_ he wants to scream. 

When they’re getting ready for bed, Louis catches himself doing it again. As they brush their teeth, he watches in the mirror at the way Harry’s head tilts to change angles, and the way his other hand toys mindlessly with the waistband of his sweats. 

“What?” Harry asks, catching Louis’ eye in the mirror.

“Nothing,” Louis tells him, continuing to brush his teeth. 

_I see you all the time now._

They’re no longer sitting vulnerably on a cold bathroom floor at midnight, but Louis feels like he sees Harry.

As they slide into bed, the same way as any other night, Louis can’t help but wonder if Harry feels a little weird about it. Sure, their relationship didn’t change overnight, as Louis can recall back to moments from half a year ago that were already a little bit nicer than usual, but it still feels extremely fast sometimes.

Harry went from Louis’ worst nightmare to a vision in his wildest dreams. And he’s alright with that, but sometimes he questions if Harry is, too. 

“What’s the matter, Lou?” Harry asks, voice tired as he sticks a finger into Louis’ cheek, somehow always knowing when his mind is running. 

“Just thinking,” he drawls, hand coming up to grab Harry’s finger on his cheek. 

“About what?” Harry smiles.

“Are you comfortable with me?” Louis lets the words spill out of his mouth before he can try to re-word it, make it sound less insecure, somehow. 

Harry pinches his eyebrows together, then relaxes his face again. “More comfortable with you than anyone else,” he answers, honest enough for Louis’ liking. 

“Do you have many friends outside of the team?”

“I have Niall,” he laughs. “And Liam.”

“So you’re glad we’re friends now?” 

Harry shifts suddenly, throwing one leg over Louis’, as if to reassure him. 

“I really am,” he says softly. “I promise.”

Louis just nods, but Harry seems to start wondering where Louis’ line of questioning is coming from.

“Are you?”

“Yes,” Louis tells him. “Sometimes I just worry that you might not be comfortable with how close we are now. I mean,” he laughs. “Imagine laying like this a year ago. It just wouldn’t have happened.”

Harry laughs then, but instead of tilting his head back, he just moves closer to Louis and starts running his hand along his waist. 

“I’m alright as long as you are.”

“Okay,” Louis says. “But remember on New Years,” he pauses, hoping Harry won’t mind if they keep the _when we kissed for the first time_ as something unspoken. “You told me you liked to argue because it reminded you that you were real.”

“Mhm,” Harry hums simply, hand still tracing Louis’ skin, almost making it difficult to concentrate. 

“So what about now? We don’t really fight anymore,” Louis asks quietly, scared to know the answer.

“Louis, it was never about the arguing, really,” Harry’s hand finds its way into Louis’ hair.

“What was it about then?”

Harry inhales deeply. “Do you remember exactly what I said?” 

Louis closes his eyes, tries his hardest to think back to that night and the words Harry spoke in the bathroom. 

“No.”

“It’s the look in your eyes that does it, Lou. Not the arguing itself.”

Louis can’t, or maybe just doesn’t want to, process what Harry just said. 

“It’s you,” Harry whispers in the still of the room. “It’s your eyes on me and only me for a moment in time.” 

“So now?”

“Well, your eyes are a little bit softer when you look at me now. And I think that works even better.”

Louis suddenly feels ready to sleep, any concern he previously had now gone, allowing his mind to exist in peace. 

“Harry?” 

“Yeah?” 

Louis wants to ask Harry to hold him. But he can’t bring himself to do it, so he just says goodnight, instead. Despite not having asked, Harry follows him when he rolls over, enveloping his body around Louis’ like he just knew. 

“Goodnight, Louis.” 


	9. may

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> worlds!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is it.... the big moment of the season !!!
> 
> also, this chapter is about double the length the rest have been.

**__** _3 WEEKS UNTIL WORLDS_

Everything is ready. All the logistics for worlds have been figured out, so all they have to do now is worry about training. James is loosening up a little bit, focusing more on maintaining their endurance than actual skill development. At this point, they don’t have enough time to integrate new movements into their existing bank of competences, so they simply stress the honing of those they already have. 

So they do stairs and sprints and kicking drills they’ve done countless times before. And Louis enjoys the routine of it all. 

“Hey, Louis,” Harry approaches as they walk back to the studio from James’ apartment building. 

“Yeah?” 

“Am I driving you home or do you still want to come over?”

“Yeah I’ll come over, if that’s still alright.”

“Yeah,” Harry nods. “Sounds good to me.” 

“But only to see Niall,” he jokes, and only laughs harder when Harry bumps into his shoulder. 

Louis doesn’t mind this routine, either. 

**

They go to bed at the same time every night and wake up at the same time every morning, regardless of what their day looks like. Consistency becomes key. They still spend most of their time together, and Gigi’s apartment more or less becomes the official hub, even when they’re off from training for hours. 

After dinner as a group in the living room, they separate into their rooms, and Louis pulls a book out of his bag to read in bed. He makes himself comfortable on his stomach, and Harry only interrupts after an hour.

“Don’t tell me,” he says seriously, looking over at the book Louis is holding. “Are you seriously reading a textbook right now?” 

“No,” Louis laughs, though he supposes it could qualify as a textbook. “Maybe.” 

Harry moves around the bed to take a look. “The mechanics of taekwondo? I actually hate you,” he laughs even harder.

“No, you love me now, remember?” Louis pats him on the cheek quickly as Harry closes his eyes and scrunches his nose. 

He pauses before saying, “You wish, Tomlinson.”

_No, I don’t._

“It’s actually really interesting,” Louis defends his choice instead of acknowledging the last thing Harry said.

“Mhm, I’m sure,” Harry rolls away before kicking Louis’ leg lightly with his foot. “Now come play cards with me.”

Louis looks over, closes the book and follows Harry into the kitchen. 

“Sometimes I think I should just cancel my lease and move in here permanently,” Louis says casually as he shuffles the deck. “We’re here all the time.” 

“Yeah, I’m sure Zayn and Gigi would love to have you around all the time,” Harry scoffs. “Because you’re such a joy.” 

Louis pokes his tongue out at him before rolling his eyes and starting his deal. 

“I’m kind of surprised Zayn hasn’t done it already,” he says.

“Well, it’s probably because of Liam,” Harry just shrugs. 

They stop talking to play, and the next time they speak, it’s a brand new topic of conversation. But Louis can’t stop thinking about whether or not he’ll ever move out of his small one bedroom apartment.

After playing too many hands to count, Louis glances up at the clock, not realizing how much time has passed. As if on cue, Harry yawns loudly.

“Come on,” he says quietly. “It’s time to sleep.”

**

“Hey, Louis,” James calls him over while they’re all on a water break. “I’ve been meaning to ask, how’s your ankle?”

“Yeah, it’s fine,” Louis smiles. “Good, really. Everything felt fine at nationals and it’s still strong. Nothing to worry about.”

“Good,” James nods. “Just wanted to make sure it’s all good.”

“Absolutely,” Louis nods back. “I’m feeling really good, James.”

“I’m glad. Things are also good with Harry?”

Louis glances over his shoulder and sees Harry talking excitedly to Zayn and Gigi, eyes lighting up, hands gesturing around expressively. 

“Yeah,” Louis turns back to James. “Better than I ever could have imagined, probably.”

**

“So,” Alex says excitedly when Louis shows up at the end of the junior team training session. “Can I watch you at worlds?”

“Of course,” Louis laughs. “Do you know how?”

She shakes her head. 

“I’ve never watched before,” she smiles sheepishly. “But I want to now!”

“Alright, look,” Louis puts his hand out, waiting for her to hand over the cell phone in her pocket. “Promise I won’t look through your texts,” he laughs.

Alex blushes as Ava approaches, having finished changing in the locker room.

“What’s going on?” She asks as Louis types into Alex’s phone.

“Louis sir is showing me how we can watch worlds.”

“Cool!” 

“Alright,” Louis waves them to look, and both girls move to either side of him, all three crowding around the phone. “This is the website. It’ll be a live stream, but you have to click on the right day, see here?” He points to the left side of the screen. “It’ll be here like this, and if you go here,” he points to the navigation bar on the top right. “You can see the list of who’s fighting and when.” 

Louis hands Alex her phone and she tucks it back in her pocket. 

“We’re going to watch on my laptop at home,” she says. “Bigger screen.”

**

_2 WEEKS UNTIL WORLDS_

“So what’s the plan for getting to the airport?”

The four of them look to both Liam and Niall. 

“Don’t look at me,” Liam puts his hands up. “My car only fits five.”

“So does mine,” Niall narrows his eyebrows. “We’ll have to split up if we want to fit everyone plus the bags.”

“I’ll take Zayn and Gigi,” Liam suggests. “Gigi can stay over the night before so we’re all there.”

“So,” Niall turns to Louis. “You want to stay at ours, then? I’ll take you and H.”

Louis looks over to Harry, who just nods. 

“Yeah,” Louis turns back to Niall, sending him a smile. “Sounds good to me.” 

“Alright,” Zayn jumps up, clapping his hands together once. “Let’s eat.” 

**

The more they train, the more nervous Louis becomes. In theory, training a lot should have the opposite effect, but instead, it serves as a constant reminder of how serious it’s going to be at worlds. How is it going to feel to have cameras on him pretty much the whole time? Those will probably just be an added pressure. 

“Tomlinson!” James yells, distracting him from his daydreams of worlds. “Focus!”

Louis looks up and realizes Harry is still kicking the target he’s holding. 

“I lost count,” Louis shakes his head. “Sorry.”

Before, Harry would have ripped Louis’ head off for something like that. But now, he just gives him a soft smile as if to tell him _it’s okay._

Louis hands him the targets and does his drill, trying his hardest to stay focused on the kicks, and the air filling his lungs as he pushes through it. 

The next time he trains, it’s with Zayn only, and he feels much more relaxed.

“You seem stressed,” Zayn notes. “But Louis, think about it. It literally doesn’t matter. The fact that we’re just going to be there is impressive and something to be proud of. Don’t worry too much about the outcome.” 

“You’re right,” Louis says as he switches his stance, watching his feet and Zayn through the mirror. “It’ll be alright.” 

Louis keeps Zayn’s words in the back of his mind at all times, and he starts to have an easier time focusing on training.

**

“Louis,” Harry whispers while they’re lying in bed. 

At first, Louis thinks he could just pretend to be asleep already. But when Harry starts tracing his fingers along his back so gently, he thinks it must be important to him. So Louis rolls over to look at Harry in the dark.

“Does your family know you’re going to worlds?”

Louis thinks about saying no, because that would be the case for his parents and siblings, but then realizes that still doesn’t make it the complete truth. 

“I mean,” he smiles, almost embarrassed. “Zayn and Gigi know,” he pauses, “and Niall and Liam,” another pause, “and the rest of the team,” one last pause, then quietly, “and you.” 

Harry flicks his nose.

“You’re such a sap in bed.”

“Oh, shut up,” Louis scrunches his face. “You love it.” 

Harry just hums in agreement. 

“How about you? Does your family know?”

“Not yet,” Harry frowns. “I keep meaning to call but,” he shrugs lightly. “It’s hard.”

“Harry,” Louis says carefully. “You should. Why don’t we call them tomorrow?”

_We._

“Really?” 

Harry starts tracing Louis’ skin again, and Louis isn’t even sure he’s aware he’s doing it. 

“Yeah,” Louis smiles. “But let’s get some sleep for now.”

Harry rolls over quickly, as if it’s a race against Louis for who gets to be held. 

“How did I know you were going to do that?” Louis laughs, but shifts closer anyways.

“Because you know me,” Harry teases, emphasizing the last word. 

“Yeah,” Louis sighs, wrapping an arm around Harry and pressing his nose into the back of his neck. “I guess I do.”

His last words are mostly inaudible with his lips pressed against the bare skin of Harry’s back. 

**

Harry opens his laptop a few minutes before the time he scheduled with his family to have a video call. Louis sits right next to him on the bed. 

When Anne and Gemma pop up on their screen just a few minutes later, they’re both waving together. 

“Hi,” Louis says quietly, not wanting to speak over Harry as he says hello. 

“It’s so nice to hear from you,” Anne smiles. “What is this news?”

“Yeah, Harry,” Gemma adds. “I hope it’s not something you should be telling us in person.”

Harry and Louis exchange a look, neither one sure what Gemma is suggesting. 

“No,” Harry shakes his head. “It’s just,” he smiles. “I’m going to worlds,” he looks over at Louis, who’s already looking at Harry. “We’re going to worlds.”

Anne and Gemma shower them in congratulations as they continue looking at each other. 

“That’s so exciting,” Gemma smiles. “So wait, are you guys going to have to fight each other?”

Harry pushes Louis out of the screen then, and starts talking, lying about how he’s going to be the one that makes Louis lose. Any time Louis tries to come back in view and tell the truth, Harry pushes him away again.

“Haz, stop,” Louis laughs, trying to push back against him.

“Haz?” Gemma laughs. “That’s cute.”

Harry stops pushing Louis around, so he gets back in the frame quickly.

“You don’t call him that?” 

Gemma shakes her head. “Never even heard it before.”

The first time Louis let the nickname slip out of his lips, he attributed it to being something he heard Gemma say that he must have picked up on. But now he knows that’s not true, and the source is somewhere in his subconscious.

“Anyways,” Louis goes on, blatantly ignoring the feeling in his stomach. “We’re not in the same division anymore. So we won’t be fighting.”

“Too bad,” Harry sighs dramatically.

Louis pushes him off the bed. 

**

_ONE WEEK UNTIL WORLDS_

Louis stays in his own apartment every night for the last week until he has to spend the night at Harry’s before the flight. He figures he needs to eat some of his own food and clean out his own fridge before leaving. 

He cooks himself dinner after a light training session and sits on the couch to watch TV. He finishes eating, brings his plate to the kitchen and washes it, then goes back to the couch. 

But he can’t handle the silence. 

He normally has the distractions of Niall laughing loudly at something Liam says, or Zayn and Gigi giggling into each other's ears. Sometimes Harry whispers into his own, and then there’s no chance of him concentrating again. 

So he turns off the TV and goes to lie down in bed, hoping a different context will help him feel better. It’s still not time to sleep, but maybe if he watches something on his phone in the dark, it will manage to trick his mind somehow. 

But here, he can’t handle the empty space beside him. 

Louis groans and pulls the covers up to his face, yelling at himself to _just stop._ He tells himself he has to sleep, because he can’t afford to screw up his perfectly crafted schedule now; not when they’re so close.

A thought crosses his mind that he tries to push away as fast as it arrived. But still, he’s reaching for his phone on the pillow beside him, hand reacting faster than his brain. 

_Don’t do it._

Nobody has ever spent the night at Louis’ before. With the single exception of Zayn, nobody’s ever been in his apartment for long enough to memorize the floor plan.

Still, he finds himself typing out a text.

He reads it over before deleting it and throwing his phone back in the empty space that he wishes was filled with a body. 

**

“You look tired,” Zayn comments at training the next morning, except he’s not talking to Louis. But then he turns to Louis and adds, “actually, both of you do.”

Harry’s hand reaches up to grab the back of his neck.

“I didn’t sleep very well last night,” he says, and Louis thinks his tired eyes would agree. 

Harry looks over to Louis, and Zayn’s eyes follow, and Louis realizes they’re expecting him to say something, now. 

“Yeah,” he nods. “Me neither.” 

In the locker room after the session, Harry leaves first and Zayn asks Louis directly if they were both tired because they were together. 

Louis tells him no, but wonders if it’s possible they were tired for the same reason, anyways. 

**

“No,” Louis laughs as he walks in with Zayn, Gigi, and Harry for their scheduled time. “This is so cute.”

“What a great group of kids,” Gigi says quietly, smiling at all of them standing in the dojang. 

The junior team, along with Lauren, Natalie, and Mackenzie have a large banner strung across the mirrors that reads _GOOD LUCK AT WORLDS,_ surrounded by messages from each of them, along with a great looking cake to match. 

“You guys are really the best,” Zayn says, walking over to the three girls on their team first. 

Louis takes the chance to approach the junior students and give them each a quick hug, thanking them individually for their support. He takes his time before moving on to the three senior girls. He goes to Lauren last, pulling her close.

“Next year, kid.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah,” Louis smiles, letting her go. “I really do.” 

They spend time together in the gym, sitting and laughing and eating cake. One by one, the junior students get up to leave when their parents arrive, leaving only Alex and Ava in the end.

“You girls behave while we’re gone,” Louis teases, and notices the way Alex widens her eyes at him. 

“Why wouldn’t we?” Ava laughs. 

Louis watches in the mirror as Harry turns his head away, pinching his lips together to keep from laughing. Louis told Harry about everything with the girls late one night, just because he felt like it.

“I think,” Harry composes himself. “Louis just means make sure you watch everyday.”

“Well,” Ava sucks air through her teeth. “You’re eight hours ahead, though. So depending on what time you fight-”

“Everyday,” Louis cuts her off and points at her with a playful smile.

Alex and Ava leave together not long later, and slowly, everyone on the senior team starts heading out, too. 

“Are you guys gonna sit here for a while longer?” James asks Harry and Louis, as Zayn and Gigi stand up to leave, giving them both quick hugs from their seated positions before doing so. 

“Yeah,” Louis looks to Harry for confirmation. “I think so.” 

“Alright, lock up when you leave. I’ll see you at the airport.” 

“Bye, James,” they say together. 

They stay silent as he makes his way out, giving them one last wave before leaving. 

Louis moves his foot to kick Harry’s leg lightly beside him, and does it again when Harry doesn’t react. Harry looks up then, face soft.

“What’s wrong?” Louis pinches his eyebrows.

“Nothing,” Harry looks down. “Just thinking.” 

Louis puts both hands on the ground and tucks his knees into his chest, lifting his feet as he spins himself around. He lies his head into Harry’s lap, looking up at him. 

“Thinking about what, loser?”

Harry just pokes his tongue out quickly. As of late, their insults have been used in more of an endearing manner. If they’re calling each other names, it’s to draw the other back in. 

“How crazy this is,” Harry shakes his head, leaning back on one hand and resting the other on Louis’ chest.

Louis wraps both hands around Harry’s wrist and drags it over his heart. 

“I feel like we think about that a lot lately,” Louis rubs one thumb in small circles over the back of Harry’s hand. 

“Maybe too much,” Harry laughs. 

“I’m really happy we’re friends now, Harry,” Louis whispers, like it’s a secret he doesn’t want to share. 

From his angle, Louis watches Harry swallow hard.

“Me too,” he says, but pulls his hand away from Louis’ chest. “Let’s go home.” 

Louis doesn’t bother to correct him. Especially since his own house doesn’t feel like home anymore, anyways. 

**

“Alright, everything is here?” Harry asks, looking at all their bags piled near the door. 

“Yeah,” Louis nods. “Looks like it.”

“I’m tired, Lou.”

Louis looks over at Harry to find his shoulders slumped, body looking heavy. 

“Let’s go to bed then.”

As they settle in bed, Louis starts to wonder if it’s Harry’s mind weighing him down, rather than his overall tiredness. He reaches out to squeeze Harry’s hip gently.

“Are you alright?” 

Harry finally smiles again.

“Yeah, we’re alright.”

_That’s not what I asked._

“Okay.”

**

In the earliest hours of the morning, Louis wakes up to the sound of Niall banging on the bedroom door. 

“Harry! Louis! Get up!”

Harry sits up quickly, but flops back down immediately, groaning and rolling over closer to Louis, their legs still tangled together. 

“Come on,” Louis pats him on the back. “We’ve got a plane to catch.”

After many minutes of encouragement, Louis ensures they’re both dressed as they walk out of the bedroom to meet Niall in the living room. They eat breakfast only because they need to wake themselves up, despite sleeping for just a few hours. They can’t sleep much on the plane, besides maybe a quick nap, because with the vastly differing time zones, it will be midnight in Paris when they land. Thankfully, they’re arriving with enough days in advance that they can take the necessary time to adjust to the change before competing. 

After putting their bags in the trunk, Harry climbs into the front seat while Louis slips in the back. The silence feels right for this hour, and Louis stares out the window, watching other cars whiz by in the dark, wondering where they’re going, and if they’re as nervous about it as he is. 

**

“Guys,” Liam says, when they’re about to get separated at security. “I’m so proud of you all.”

Liam pulls Zayn into a hug first, then everyone else right after. 

“And seriously,” he adds. “I remember watching from the bleachers as the two of you fought outside of the ring,” he laughs, looking between Harry and Louis. “I’m so happy you’re actually experiencing this together.”

_Together._

Louis thinks that’s an interesting word choice. If they still couldn’t get along, and they were both about to get on this plane, it wouldn’t be together. Something about it all just screams unity. 

“Thanks, Li,” Harry answers for the both of them. 

Niall approaches next, hugging them all quickly and wishing them luck. He tells them they’re going to be watching every day, and not to come home without a gold medal.

The last part is a joke. 

“Bye, guys,” they all wave one last time, then turn around without looking back again. 

Except for Louis. 

Louis looks over his shoulder one last time, to find them still watching. Niall and Liam bring their hand up to wave as they smile at Louis and Louis only, and that’s the last thing he needs before turning around to leave. 

**

They all board the plane, find their seats and throw their equipment bags overhead. They keep their backpacks with them, tucking them under the seat in front of them as they sit down. Zayn and Gigi are sitting in front of Harry and Louis, and James is in front of them, sitting with another single stranger. 

“Okay, ten hours,” Louis sighs. “What are we going to do?” 

“Sleep,” Harry says, falling deliberately onto Louis’ shoulder.

“H, no,” Louis shakes him off. “We can maybe have a quick nap towards the end, but that’s it.”

Harry whines. 

“Cards?” Louis asks, reaching into his bag. 

Harry’s face lights up, and Louis thinks maybe he knows he packed them just for him. 

Louis gets so enraptured by the game that he doesn’t even notice the plane taking off, notably, one of two of his least favourite parts. When he sees the smile on Harry’s face, he thinks maybe Harry knew all along, and he was just one step ahead. 

**

They alternate between chatting with Zayn and Gigi, and just chatting to each other. Harry reads on his phone while Louis watches a movie. When Harry grows tired of reading, he leans closer to Louis and watches the movie with him, not caring that he missed the first three quarters. 

“Louis,” he says when it’s over. “Can we sleep now?”

Louis checks the time. He wanted to wait another forty five minutes, but he can’t bring himself to say so to Harry. 

“Okay,” Louis smiles at Harry, reaching out and tucking his hair back. “But only twenty minutes. I’m setting an alarm.”

Harry makes a face as Louis pulls his hand away.

“Stop pouting,” Louis laughs. “Twenty minutes is long enough.”

Harry just rolls his eyes as he leans on Louis’ shoulder while Louis sets the alarm to vibrate only. He definitely doesn’t want to be the person who wakes somebody else up by accident. 

“Twenty minutes,” Louis mumbles, leaning in to Harry. 

Harry shifts then, turning so he can put his feet up on his seat near the window and keep his head resting on Louis, who turns and follows Harry’s adjustments. 

As Louis watches Harry fall asleep, body curled up in his seat, he brushes Harry’s hair out of his eyes, thinking he looks so peaceful like this. 

When the alarm goes off, Harry groans and stirs in Louis’ arms. 

“You have to get up,” Louis says quietly. “Or you won’t sleep through the night.” 

“Fine,” Harry grumbles, sitting up, and Louis finds himself missing the weight. “Only if we can play cards.”

“Deal,” Louis laughs and reaches for the deck of cards once again.

There’s only three hours left in the flight. Louis thinks he could spend all of that time playing cards with Harry if it will keep that light in his eyes. 

**

When the plane finally lands, they stand up and stretch out, and when it’s their turn, they step into the aisle to grab their bags and walk out. James leads them all through the airport, towards the baggage carousel, where thankfully, they get their bags in a timely manner. James still seems to know where he’s going as he guides them towards the door, where their driver is waiting for them. 

“Team Sipjin? From Canada?” He asks.

“That’s us,” James nods. “It’ll be the five of us this whole week.” 

“I’m Paul,” he says, accent heavy. 

“James,” James extends his hands to shake, then points at everyone individually. “Zayn, Gigi, Harry, Louis.”

“Ah, Louis,” Paul nods. “Sounds french.”

“Moi, je pense qu’il a l’air un peu français, aussi. Un beau visage, huh?” Harry laughs from beside him, and everyone turns to look. Harry is full of surprises, and Louis isn’t sure if they’ll ever end. 

“T’es effronté,” Paul laughs. “C’est ton chou?” 

“Mon chéri secret,” Harry says. 

“Ah,” Paul nods. “Je comprends.”

“Okay,” Zayn interrupts. “I don’t know what’s going on but-”

“I’ll take you to your hotel,” Paul assures him. “Follow me.”

Louis looks over at Harry as they walk together, and Harry looks just as smug as he remembers. It doesn’t seem like Harry plans on filling him in on the conversation he just had, so Louis rolls his eyes and faces forward again. Harry reaches up and pinches his cheek lightly, laughing at his unawareness. 

**

Paul drops them off at their hotel and wishes them a good night, telling them he’ll be back on the first day of worlds. They get themselves checked in, the lobby mostly empty at this hour. They all take the elevator up to their floor, and James walks them to their shared room.

“Get some sleep, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, James,” they all echo together as Zayn unlocks the door with one of the two keys they were given. 

They walk inside and drop their equipment bags by the door. 

“Alright, which half of the room do you guys want?” 

Gigi makes the mistake of giving Harry and Louis the choice. 

“We’ll take the inside one,” Louis points to the door, separating the two halves of the room. 

Harry nods, seeming to pick up on Louis’ logic without the need for explanation. It’s not that Louis doesn’t love them, but he doesn’t want Zayn and Gigi needing to walk through where Harry and Louis are lying in order to get to their side room. Louis prefers his privacy. 

“Alright, just don’t forget to lock both doors in the ensuite,” she laughs. 

“Got it,” Louis says. “Also we call dibs on the bathroom first tonight.”

Harry takes off for the bathroom, and Zayn and Gigi roll their eyes as Louis just shrugs with a smile. 

“Behave,” Zayn warns him.

“Goodnight,” Louis answers. 

Everyone decides to skip on a shower, knowing it will just wake them up, which is the opposite thing they need to be doing right now. So within ten minutes, all the lights are out and the entire shared room has fallen into a silence. 

“Harry, hurry up,” Louis says from the bed as Harry gets dressed a few feet away. “This bed is so comfortable.” 

Harry dives in then, jumping into bed and jostling Louis around.

“Mm, you’re right.”

“You’re such a little shit,” Louis groans.

“You love me,” Harry pauses, wrapping an arm around Louis’ body and tucking his head into Louis’ shoulder. “Goodnight, Louis.”

**

In the morning, James calls them to make sure they’re awake, then tells them to meet him for breakfast in the lobby. They have no set plans for the day, and Louis hopes they establish something to do. They’re only in Paris for so long.

When they’re all dressed, the four of them head down together, and over breakfast, they make plans for the day, packing in a full itinerary. Louis couldn’t be more excited. 

As they galavant around the city, specifically making their way to the Eiffel tower, Harry slings his arm around Louis and makes him promise to go to the Louvre with him when they get the chance. Louis agrees, under the condition that Harry accompanies him to as many cafés as possible. 

And by the time they call it a night, Louis is exhausted. He thinks it’s perfect, because it’ll help fix his sleep pattern even more. Tomorrow is the first day of worlds, and though he isn’t competing, he still wants to feel ready. 

**

_WORLDS - DAY 1_

In the lobby, competitors are milling around with their teams, taking up the entire area. James is quick to find Paul lined up with the other drivers, and the five of them make their way over, where he escorts them to their van once again.

“Bon matin,” he says, looking in the rearview mirror.

“Good morning,” Harry replies. 

They chat excitedly all the way to the arena, where Paul drops them off right at the entrance. He tells them he’ll stick around, so he’s ready to leave whenever they are. Everyone thanks him as they jump out of the car, and start their walk into the huge building. 

“This is insane,” Zayn shakes his head.

“I can’t believe we’re actually here.”

Louis’ eyes are wandering just as much as his mind. But then Harry grabs his arm, grounding him immediately.

“We have to go get our lanyards,” Harry says casually, releasing his grip on Louis’ forearm. 

“Yeah,” Gigi smiles. “We’re going to have competitor badges from worlds.”

James leads them to the table and they realize it’s much more official than they’ve ever seen before. They get their photo taken for an actual ID card, which is quickly laminated and attached to a lanyard for them. Once they all have their cards, they find the locker rooms, so they can change into their uniforms and get ready for the opening ceremony. 

They don’t have to do much of anything for it. They’ll just stand with all the other Canadian athletes and bow when their country is introduced. The referees will get sworn in, the World Taekwondo demonstration team will perform, and then the juniors will kick off the competition. 

“Which dobok are you going to wear, Zayn?” 

Harry asks as he changes his own top.

“I think probably the sparring one,” Zayn smiles shyly. “It’s the one I’m most proud to be wearing this year.”

Harry and Louis share a look, before both making fake gagging sounds.

“Shut up,” Zayn laughs, and the other two laugh with him. “Maybe I just want to match with the three of you.” 

Once they’re dressed, they’re being ushered by officials towards their country’s position in the group, which is recreating the circle they’ll make around the rings once they’re inside.

“Look around,” Harry whispers to Louis. “We’re going to be fighting some of these people. We just don’t know which ones.”

“Way to sound extremely ominous,” Louis pulls his ear away, turning to look at Harry and laugh at him, but doesn’t laugh when he sees his face. “You look very excited.”

“Are you not?” Harry asks, voice raising slightly. “Like, okay, whose ass am I kicking?” 

Louis is almost impressed at Harry’s ability to remain the least modest person he knows. 

The officials start explaining how everything is going to go down, and Louis pays attention, trying to take in every detail of this entire experience. He doesn’t want to forget a single moment. 

He glances over at Harry, and sees his wide eyes as he tries to copy the motions the officials are teaching them.

_Not a single moment._

**

After the ceremony, they decide to stay and watch the juniors, given they’re expected to be done by the late afternoon, anyways, giving them time to do as they please before turning in for the night. 

They’re impressed by the forms, but it’s when sparring begins that they’re truly blown away.

“These kids are insane,” Zayn shakes his head. 

“Were we that good when we were that young?” Louis wonders out loud. 

“Who says you’re even that good now?” Harry quips, but puts his hands up in defense when Louis turns to glare at him. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” 

Based on his facial expression and body language, Louis decides Harry really is just kidding, so he’ll spare him the snide comment. 

Before they know it, the divisions are all cut down to the final two, and it’s just the gold medal matches that are left. The room goes mostly dark as the announcer introduces the first division and the competitors that are fighting. There’s a spotlight that follows them as they walk out, one at a time with their coaches in tow. 

“The production value is pretty good,” Harry says over the noise, and they all burst into laughter as they applaud for the first two fighters. 

When all the matches are complete, each one getting its own spotlight introduction, the medal ceremonies happen and the officials drag out the podium. They go through the divisions, each group receiving their medals as everyone in the arena applauds. 

Louis isn’t sure he’s ever heard a louder event, and he doesn’t think he’s ever been so exhilarated.

**

“Paul, which do you think are the three best cafés in Paris?” Louis asks once it’s silent in the van on the way back to the hotel.

“Three?” Harry whispers.

“At least three.”

Paul lists off cafés, and Louis takes notes in his phone, though Harry has to correct nearly all of them for spelling. Louis was just writing it as he heard it. 

When they’re back at the hotel, Louis asks politely if Paul would mind driving him and Harry to the closest café on his list, assuring him they’ll find their own way back. Paul agrees, so Harry and Louis wave goodbye to the other three. 

The café is only a five minute drive, and Louis pays close attention, thinking they could probably just walk back to the hotel afterwards. Paul drops them off, and they wave goodbye as they head inside. 

“We’re going to sit outside, right?” Louis asks, absolutely wanting to take advantage of every chance he gets.

“Oh, you mean, as the sun sets and the city lights come on? How romantic,” Harry teases, and Louis can feel the heat rise to his cheeks. 

He turns his attention to the menu to forget about it, then groans in frustration.

“Can you tell me what that says?” 

“You want me to read the whole menu?” Harry scoffs, and Louis thinks he’s clearly in some kind of mood today.

“No, idiot,” Louis says firmly. “I don’t know. How about you just pick? Order for us, and I’ll pay.”

“You don’t have to pay,” Harry counters.

“I dragged you here. This is my end of the deal. You can pay for our admissions at the Louvre.”

“Deal,” Harry agrees easily, then studies the menu quickly as the person in front of them finishes ordering. 

The cashier calls them forward, and Harry orders, Louis watching his delicate mouth, loving the way everything sounds on his tongue, though he doesn’t understand a word of it. 

When their order number is called, they pick it up and take it outside to find an empty table. Louis sips on his tea, Harry somehow having picked something he loves, and Harry drinks his decaf coffee, claiming he wants to make sure he still sleeps at night. They share the bread Harry ordered, and Louis knows it was a good decision because it’s rather heavy.

“That’s so filling,” he says, ripping off one last piece, nudging what’s left towards Harry. “Like, that’s dinner for me.”

“Me, too,” Harry agrees, popping the last piece in his mouth. 

They sit in silence after that, sipping on their drinks until they’re done. The sun is disappearing on the horizon, and Louis suggests they leave before it gets too dark for them to find their way back, remembering the cold experience he had at provincials. 

“Yeah,” Harry gets up first, chair scraping against the ground. “Mon chéri,” he offers his arm.

“Are you ever going to tell me what that means?”

“Do you genuinely not know?” 

“Sorry I’m not fluent like you,” Louis defends, but takes Harry’s arm anyway. 

“Hmm,” he taps his index finger against his chin, laughing. “No.”

Louis shoves him along the sidewalk. 

**

When they get back to their room, Zayn and Gigi aren’t inside, but they decide not to wait up for them. This is exactly why Louis wanted the inside room, and he’s thankful it’s proven to be the right decision, even only on day one.

“I’m really tired,” Harry states.

“Me, too,” Louis yawns. “I think it’s time for bed.”

They both head into the bathroom, brushing their teeth standing next to each other. Neither of them say anything as they get ready, or even when they finally crawl into bed. They simply move in sync, Harry giving Louis the majority of the blanket knowing full well that he’s going to pull it over anyways, and Louis turns to face Harry, knowing that’s what he prefers. 

Neither of them say anything when Louis brings his hand up to touch Harry’s face in the dark, or when he sighs and moves that hand to Harry’s waist afterwards. Not another word passes, and it’s only the sounds of Harry’s steady breathing that lull Louis to sleep. 

**

_WORLDS - DAY 2_

They stay focused in the morning, nobody wanting to be the first to say anything and break the silence. 

“Why is everyone so quiet?” James laughs in the lobby. “Come on, now, let’s get a little bit excited!”

Zayn chuckles nervously.

“You’re going to be fine,” James squeezes his shoulder. “It’ll be fun.”

“I hope so,” Zayn answers.

Everyone pats Zayn on the back as they make their way into the van, squeezing in and greeting Paul. He makes conversation on the way to the arena, asking if any of them are actually competing today. Zayn tells him that he is, and Paul wishes him good luck. Louis laughs quietly and leans closer to Zayn.

“You don’t need luck. You’re just good.”

Zayn turns and smiles softly at Louis, thanking him silently. 

“Okay,” Paul announces when they arrive. “Here we are. I’ll see you later. Don’t stress, Zayn.”

They all scan their ID’s at the entrance, greeted by the people at the check-in. Since there’s no sparring, there’s no weigh-in, and the whole process is just a little bit faster. They all head to their designated dressing room, where Zayn takes his time making sure his uniform is straight, and his belt is tight around his waist, hanging evenly in front of him. The other three change into their new team tracksuits, given James doesn’t want them wearing their uniforms when not necessary.

All that matters is they look like a team, so they need to match. 

Louis thinks their tracksuits look sharp; crisp black, accented with white around the collar and wrists, and a single stripe down each leg. Their last names are printed rather small on the inside of their left wrist, and Louis is thankful for the subtlety. 

“Tomlinson,” Harry startles Louis, grabbing his wrist and running his fingers quickly over the name. 

Louis clears his throat.

“Styles,” he says simply. 

Zayn turns around, his body looking ready but his face saying otherwise. 

“Come on,” Louis puts his arm out. “You look great.”

Gigi is waiting for them outside, quick in the changeroom with nobody on their team to distract her. 

“Babe, you look so good,” she kisses Zayn quickly. “I’m so excited to watch you.” 

James steps in, letting them know he has to take Zayn away to the holding room. They wish him luck one last time, then watch as he disappears with James around the corner. 

“Damn,” Louis shakes his head. “This is real now.”

The three of them make their way to the stands, where they find the arena nearly full already with other competitors, family members and fans alike. They squeeze their way into their reserved seats with the other Canadian competitors, waiting for the competition to start. 

There are five rings set up in the arena, and one of them is elevated, clearly designed for the sparring medal matches. Louis hopes he finds himself in that ring before the end of this tournament. 

Suddenly, four competitors are being led out towards the rings, separating and each taking one of the rings on the ground. The volume of the room escalates quickly, and truthfully, it only makes Louis more amped up to fight tomorrow. He knows that it’s just a fact that sparring builds more excitement than forms, and it definitely helps get his adrenaline going.

Louis looks behind him at a group of competitors standing and cheering loudly, and Louis is pretty sure their jackets say Mexico. Sure enough, when he looks down at the rings, one of the girls about to perform has ‘MX’ printed on the back of her shirt. The country solidarity is astounding, and Louis can’t wait to cheer on his own team as well as the teams across his country. 

All four competitors are kneeling in the centre of the ring, and it becomes clear they’re going to perform one at a time in succession, all from the same division. The first girl is instructed to stand up, and there’s cheering around the room, only settling once she’s commanded into a ready position. She starts her poomsae and everyone’s eyes are glued to her, following her every move. When she finishes, her score lights up on the screen, and she kneels again as the next one stands. 

One at a time, they perform, before rotating out with the other four in their division. They perform one at a time as well, scores being put up after each of them. The big screen hanging from the ceiling shows the stats as well, with names and countries of the competitors, along with their scores. Louis watches as they shuffle around to reveal the top three, who are then brought out from the sidelines to receive their medals. 

The next division goes through the same process, and Louis finds himself getting antsy waiting for Zayn. When he finally walks out behind three others, Louis, Harry and Gigi are on their feet in an instant. The Canadians beside them catch on and stand up, too, cheering for Zayn, even if they aren’t sure which one he is, yet.

Louis hopes Liam and Niall are watching. 

Zayn is placed in the last ring, and he kneels, tightening his belt as he does so. It’s definitely a cocky move, and Louis hopes he means it; hopes Zayn is feeling confident. The first three perform, but Louis can’t take his eyes off Zayn for longer than a few seconds. With his head bowed down, he just looks so calm. Louis wishes they were allowed to take pictures, because he thinks it’s just such a beautiful sight. 

And then he sees one of the professional photographers bending down beside Zayn’s ring, seeming to have the same idea as Louis. 

The moment is only disturbed when Zayn stands up to perform. 

“Let’s go!” Gigi yells while everyone is still clapping, and then the room falls back into silence. 

Zayn executes everything so perfectly. His feet pivot when he kicks, toes gripping the mats beneath him as he lifts his heel to elongate the motion. His hands are loose, only tightening into fists when necessary, finishing the movement. His stances are so perfectly even on both sides, never missing a single step. He yells loudly on his last move, and everyone is on their feet again. 

Louis doesn’t think he can see them from where he is, but he hopes Zayn knows they’re looking right at him. 

He’s commanded back to his ready position, finishing exactly where he started, just as you’re supposed to. His score lights up on the screen, taking second place. 

“Eh!” Harry yells, pumping one fist in the air. 

The four of them are escorted out of their rings and over to the sidelines, where they start talking as if they’re friends already. The second group of four comes out, taking their spots in the rings, each performing when it’s their turn.

Louis’ eyes dart to the big screen after each one, watching their places get shuffled, until there’s only one left. Zayn was bumped to third, and Louis just hopes he can hold onto that spot. After the last competitor, Louis grabs Gigi’s hand in anticipation, and he notices her biting her lip nervously. When the score is updated on the big screen, they don’t react at first.

What are they supposed to do?

They decide to clap anyways, and Gigi reminds them he still has individual freestyle. 

They watch as the three medalists are guided to the podium and given their bouquet, while Zayn can only watch on from the sidelines. Once they’re done, all eight of them are escorted back out, and the next division is brought out. 

It’s a long while until they get to see Zayn again. Once the individual poomsae is over, they move onto team poomsae next. After that, the first division of freestyle begins, starting back with individuals again. 

“I love watching freestyle,” Harry says as they clap for whoever just performed. “It’s so cool.” 

When Zayn is walking out again, the three of them are louder than they were the first time, hoping their energy can manifest something better. He kneels in his spot, this time in the third ring. Louis hopes it will light a new spark. 

After the second competitor kneels, Zayn rises, both literally and metaphorically. He stands slowly before taking his starting position in the back left corner. The machine starts the countdown, and the music blares through the arena. 

His first flip kick is always a surprise and the people in the crowds cheer, clearly impressed. Zayn lands everything, each movement flowing seamlessly into the next. 

Louis feels like he blinks and it’s over. Zayn is standing in the centre of the ring, chest heaving dramatically for effect, only stopping when he’s commanded back to his ready position. The team stays on their feet, hands held together as they wait for the score to update. When Zayn’s name is moved to the top of the list, they yell loudly and share a hug as a group.

After the last competitor in this group, Zayn holds onto first place. Only four left. 

They’re swapped out, and once again, Zayn makes it look easy to make friends at an international event. Louis thinks maybe it’s because of the individual nature of the competition. They aren’t actively against each other, like in sparring, but it just comes down to a score they have no control over. 

Louis watches each freestyle and looks on as the big screen is updated. After the second competitor, Zayn is bumped into second. Only two left. When the next competitor only breaks third place, the three of them are screaming from the bleachers.

Zayn is guaranteed to medal. 

Louis looks over and sees Gigi in actual tears, so he pulls her into a hug quickly, looking over her shoulder to see Harry with his eyes locked on Zayn, still cheering and clapping, glint in his eyes. 

Everyone is so proud, and that’s what it’s all about, really. For Louis, this small little family they’ve created is all he needs.

They watch Zayn collect his bouquet at the podium and get the medal placed around his neck, and the second he disappears, the three of them slip out from the bleachers, wanting to go find him. After tearing through the halls, they finally run into him and James. 

Zayn is showered in congratulations and hugs and kisses, just as he should be after such an accomplishment. His cheeks go red as passersby watch the scene, but none of the rest of them care. 

“That’s sipjin pride, baby!” Harry yells forcefully, fists clenched out beside him with his head thrown back.

Everyone laughs and joins together for another group hug. 

Louis hopes he never forgets the feeling. 

**

Paul congratulates Zayn on his medal on the drive home, inciting a brand new commotion. Once inside their room, they decide to video call Liam and Niall.

“Boys!” Zayn yells when they answer. “Look what I got!”

“We saw,” Liam smiles fondly at the camera. “It was ridiculously early in the morning but we watched anyway.” 

“Love you guys,” Zayn smiles.

“Love you too,” Niall answers. 

Louis watches the interaction happily. 

They joke about how everyone else needs to step up tomorrow and every day that follows so Zayn isn’t the only one bringing home a medal. It makes Louis a little uneasy, and Harry must be able to tell when he reaches across Zayn to pat Louis’ leg quickly. 

After their video call comes to an end, Zayn has a shower and they all get dressed for dinner. Nothing too fancy yet, because they’re hopeful they still have a few days to go, but they still want to go out and celebrate Zayn’s first international medal. 

“To Zayn,” they clink their glasses at dinner.

“To all of us,” Zayn counters. “For good luck the rest of this week.”

Louis hopes they don’t need it. 

**

_WORLDS - DAY 3_

As it turns out, Louis and Zayn don’t fight today, while Harry and Gigi do. Each division has sixteen people, but the preliminaries split them up, doing four matches per day. They only find this out once they arrive and check-in because the brackets are randomized. Louis can’t decide if he’s relieved or even more stressed, knowing the outcome has been delayed just one more day. 

The four of them hang out together in the waiting area, while James attends the initial coach briefing for sparring. Harry and Gigi put their leg gear on, so they can walk around in it, almost like breaking in a new pair of shoes every time. 

The room is full, so they can’t really even start warming up or sit down and stretch without feeling like they’re in the way. All they can do is stand around and wait. 

Zayn turns to Gigi, whispering, coaching her quietly before the day even begins. Louis looks between them and watches Gigi nodding along, hanging on to every word Zayn says. 

Louis turns to look at Harry.

“Nervous?” 

Harry’s face changes, but still answers no. 

“All you have to do is win one match,” Louis shrugs, trying to stay relaxed for both their sakes.

“Today,” Harry smiles. “That’s all I have to do today.”

James returns, the seminar for sparring coaches having finished. He tells them they can head into their warm-up room, which James somehow arranged to have them in the same one, despite the division difference. The two of them nod quickly, and Harry suddenly seems more tense. 

Louis moves first, hugging Gigi quickly and telling her to kick ass like always. He lets go, then looks at Harry for a moment. 

It feels weird. Everything feels so weird. 

But Harry moves to pull Louis into a hug, and Louis certainly doesn’t resist. 

“Fight like you know how,” he whispers.

“I will.”

“Good.”

Harry pulls away and looks between Louis and Zayn one last time before they’re following James down the hallway. 

“Well,” Zayn says, once they’re out of sight. “Let’s go sit.” 

They find their seats quickly and listen closely as the announcer starts speaking to introduce the event and the first division. Neither Gigi nor Harry are in the first group, and for that, Louis is thankful. He wants to watch a few matches before watching the ones he actually cares about.

It’s a buildup. 

“God,” Zayn shakes his head. “I can’t even explain how I’m feeling. Like, I’m nervous for them but I’m not.”

“I get it,” Louis says absent-mindedly, still focused on the rings in front of them.

Much like the way they ran the previous day’s poomsae events, they bring out all the competitors from the division at once, each taking a separate ring. They’ll only have one match going at a time, but it will be a seamless transition from one to the next.

“I really just want them to have fun,” Zayn continues. “And not get hurt.”

The thought hadn’t even crossed Louis’ mind. But now it doesn’t seem to want to leave. 

“Yeah,” he answers, still without his full attention. 

They stop talking after that. The matches start, and the crowd cheers excitedly, the main event of the week finally coming to a start. 

Louis couldn’t imagine being the first senior match. The energy of the crowd is still ramping, not quite all there yet.

It’s a buildup. 

They sit through the first four matches, and then it’s time for the boys of the corresponding division. Louis is pretty sure Gigi will be in the next group, which would mean Harry is in the one after that since he moved up. 

“I wish we could go down there,” Zayn sighs. 

“I hear we can for the semi-finals and finals.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Louis says. “Since we’re from the same studio. We can get literal front row seats.”

“Huh.”

“Yeah,” Louis repeats. “We’re kind of an anomaly, you know.”

And Louis isn’t making that up. It’s extremely uncommon to have athletes coming from the studio. Given that there’s four of them there, Louis thinks they might even make some headlines in the taekwondo world. 

They watch the next four matches, all equally exciting in their own ways, but it’s nothing compared to the excitement they feel when the last match finishes, and a group of eight girls is being walked out, Gigi smiling in the middle of the pack. 

“I think she’s the only one smiling,” Louis laughs, leaning close to Zayn so he can hear over the noise. 

“One of the reasons I love her, man,” Zayn sighs happily. 

The matches begin, and Gigi is the last in her group. She sits in the competitor’s chair, temporarily turned to face the outside of the ring so she can’t see her opponent. James is speaking to her calmly as a match rages on behind him. But Gigi stays focused, paying attention to James rather than the fighters in front of her. 

When it’s finally her turn, she turns her chair around, standing up when the referee calls them in. 

“Let’s go, G!” Zayn yells, hands cupped around his mouth.

“Alright, Gigi!” Louis echoes, and the few other Canadians nearby pick up on it, too, cheering for her by name. 

The match starts and Gigi stays light on her feet, her hair bouncing in its bun, tucked away under her helmet. Her hands stay relaxed on either side of her body, and she reacts quickly when her opponent attacks first, Gigi’s front leg stretched up high and landing on the back of her helmet like it’s nothing. 

“Yeah!”

“Come on, now!” 

Zayn and Louis cheer loudly in the mix of all the worldwide competitors surrounding them. By the time the first round is over, Gigi is leading by two, and James is already in full coach mode, patting her on the helmet as she returns, taking it off before letting his hands fly in gesticulation. Gigi nods along, face turned more serious now, taking everything he says to heart. The referee calls them back, and the noise in the arena picks up again.

“Let’s go, Gigi!” They all yell simultaneously, coordinating in the hopes that she can hear them.

Judging by the return of the smile on her face, Louis thinks maybe she can.

The second round begins, and they pick up right where they left off, flying with the leftover intensity from the end of the first. Gigi is knocked over briefly, but smiles and gets back up again, refocusing when the referee signals them to continue. For a moment, neither of them makes a move, and it goes on long enough for the referee to signal them to interact. Gigi only waits a beat after the referee moves back again to go flying in with a combination she’s worked so hard on for months. 

And it pays off. She scores two points out of the deal, only increasing her lead. At the end of the round, she goes back to James and takes her helmet off, sipping water slowly and carefully.

“Zayn,” Louis says, voice trailing off. 

“Don’t say it,” Zayn turns to look at Louis. “Not yet.” 

But Louis was right, of course. Gigi wins. 

Louis and Zayn are on their feet, watching as she shakes hands with her opponent and her coach before heading back to James, who she wraps in a hug. As they walk out, Gigi looks up to the crowd, searching for the two of them. The smile on her face is bigger than ever, and Louis doesn’t think it could get bigger until her eyes meet Zayn’s. She brings one hand up to wave, and the two of them wave together. 

**

They sit through the boys next, and then the girls of the next division, during which time Louis slips out to use the washroom. He navigates himself through the building, locating the nearest one. He knows what he’s feeling is second hand anxiety. Harry is up soon, and then the day is done. They’ll get to go back to the hotel room and get ready for Zayn and Louis to do it all again tomorrow. 

Louis splashes cold water on his face, begging himself to get it together. He knows he needs to hurry up, but he can’t even remember how long he’s been gone or how many matches the girls had already gone through. But he just needs to get back. He doesn’t want to miss Harry. 

He thinks back to nationals and how he felt, not seeing Harry in the crowd. He knows that feeling, and he doesn’t want Harry to feel it, too. So he takes one last look at himself in the mirror and walks back out, feeling better than before. 

“You okay?” Zayn asks as he slips back into his seat. 

“Hm? Yeah,” Louis says, glancing into the arena.

He realizes he’s just on time. The last match for the current division is coming to an end, and they’ll be swapped out right away with the boys. Louis holds his breath, hoping time will stand still with him for just a moment. 

But the noise doesn’t go away. People are still shuffling around on the floor. Harry walks in at the back of his group, heading to the last ring. 

“Oh no,” Louis says under his breath.

“What?” Zayn asks worriedly. 

“Nothing,” Louis assures him, realizing he spoke too loudly. “Just, Harry hates fighting in the red gear.”

“I think he’ll be fine,” Zayn rolls his eyes. “How do you even know that?”

“We’re friends now, remember?” Louis laughs as they continue clapping. 

As Harry walks, he looks up, eyes finding Louis and Zayn. He nods sharply with a smirk that disappears just as quickly as it got there, before turning to sit in his chair. James talks to him casually, and they both turn to watch the first match that’s starting right away. 

The first three feel like they take an eternity. Realistically, they’re only about ten minutes each, but it’s the longest half hour of Louis’ life, and he can only imagine how Harry feels. He backtracks on that thought, though, realizing Harry is probably thriving on the anticipation. 

Louis dials in when the referee calls them to the centre, and Harry stands up confidently.

“That’s Harry,” Louis offers to the Canadians around them.

“Let’s go, Harry!” 

“Come on, H!” Louis yells, joining in on the noise of the others. 

They bow and then the fight is on. Harry’s got most of his weight on his back leg, baiting his opponent right out of the gate. When he doesn’t latch onto it, Harry takes matters into his own hands, shifting his stance and changing gears, driving his body forward for a committed attack. In the interaction, they both score, and the playing field is still evened out. 

Louis can hear Zayn yelling beside him, but Louis’ mouth can’t seem to communicate properly with his brain. So he just stands in silence, watching attentively. He watches as Harry scores again, and again, and then his opponent does the same. By the end of the first round, they’re tied, eliciting further excitement from the crowd. James yells at Harry, giving him exact instructions for the next round. 

Zayn nudges Louis.

“Stop worrying so much,” he says. “It’s gonna be fine.”

And maybe Zayn is right, because Harry comes out of the second round, leading by two. All he needs to do is hold on for two more minutes. 

Just two more minutes and he earns a quota spot in the Olympics for Canada, just like Gigi before him. 

And Harry holds on. 

He beams up at Zayn and Louis as he crosses the ring towards James after shaking hands with his opponent’s coach, then practically launches himself at James. 

“Are you coming?” 

Louis tears his eyes off Harry to see Zayn already standing in the aisle, waiting for Louis so they can go meet the others. Louis turns around again and sees Harry leaving the centre floor. He doesn’t look back again as he follows Zayn out. 

**

Louis is facing Zayn when he sees his face change mid sentence, running quickly past Louis, who turns around to see Harry, Gigi and James approaching, changed back in their tracksuits.

Gigi runs to meet Zayn halfway, and Louis just stands and watches.

“I love you so much,” he overhears, not even sure which of them is speaking. 

Harry gets closer, stopping right in front of Louis.

“I don’t get the same enthusiasm?” He asks, eyebrows raised. 

“Shut up,” Louis laughs, pushing him lightly on the shoulder. 

Harry doesn’t say anything as he recovers his balance. 

“I’m proud of you.”

Louis vocalizes the words he wishes he had said out loud more often, for as long as he’s known Harry. He quite likes the way it sounds coming out of his mouth, and he likes the thing it does to Harry’s face even better.

_I’m proud of you I’m proud of you I’m proud of you_

“I know,” Harry whispers, and Louis thinks he likes that best of all. 

**

At dinner, they celebrate the day and hope for tomorrow. 

**

They’re back in the hotel room before nine, already tired, still maintaining their sleep schedule. Zayn and Gigi wish Harry and Louis a good night as they step into their side room, already having claimed the bathroom first. They take turns getting cleaned up again before meeting in bed. 

Louis sits on the edge of the bed and plugs his phone into his charger, opening up the group chat to see messages from Niall and Liam, buzzing over the matches earlier in the day. Louis watches Zayn’s name pop up on the screen, evidently doing the same thing as Louis right now. He turns to look down at Harry, who seems to already be half asleep.

_Harry is pretty much asleep, but I’m sure he appreciated you guys watching !!!!_

_9:17 pm_

“Harry,” Louis whispers, truly unsure whether or not he’s still awake.

Harry grumbles in response, opening his eyes to look up at Louis.

“I’m sorry,” Louis whispers softly, running a hand through Harry’s hair, and Harry just hums and closes his eyes again in response. “I was just wondering if you’ve heard from your family.”

“Yeah,” he opens his eyes once more. “They texted earlier. I answered them before dinner.”

“That’s nice,” Louis removes his hand from Harry’s hair. “I’m glad.” 

Harry pats the bed beside him lazily, impatient for Louis to fill the space. Louis does as he’s asked after turning off the lamp beside him. He rolls onto his side to face Harry in the dark.

“So excited to watch you tomorrow, Lou. Promise I won’t hide this time.”

“It’s okay, Harry,” Louis answers, knowing between those words, Harry is still apologizing.

“Gonna be right there in the stands with Gigi. Cheering you on.”

“That’s all I really want,” Louis sighs in satisfaction.

_But is it?_

Louis’ brain calculates just how easy it would be to close the gap and kiss Harry right now; how simple it would be to capture his lips against his own again and fall back into that feeling from the beginning of the year. 

But he doesn’t.

He pushes the thought away, wondering how much longer he can ignore it. 

**

_WORLDS - DAY 4_

Louis wakes up at half past five in the morning to the sound of his alarm. They don’t need to be getting in the van until eight, but this gives him time to shower and have a small breakfast, and overall a chance to really wake up. Beside him, Harry wakes up to the alarm, too.

“Shh,” Louis shushes him from where he’s still sitting on the edge of the bed. “Go back to sleep. I’ll wake you up after I shower.” 

Harry just rolls back over, pulling the blanket up closer to his face. 

Louis rolls his eyes and stands up, walking towards the ensuite, but stopping at the closet to take out his tracksuit to change into after his shower. Beside it hangs his dobok, which he runs his hand over briefly before continuing on his path. 

He spends too much time in the shower, and somehow even more time just sitting on the counter, wrapped up in the towel. He turns to look over his shoulder, and sees his reflection fogged up in the mirror. 

_All it takes is one match today._

_Six minutes._

Finally, he jumps off the counter and gets dressed, hangs his towel on the door and walks back out to find Harry still sleeping soundly in their bed. He reminds himself he has to wake him up, no matter how badly he wants to just let him sleep. 

“Harry,” he walks over to the bed, picking up his phone from the nightstand. “Harry.”

“Hmm?”

“Time to get up,” Louis tells him, then places a hand on his shoulder when he doesn’t react. “Harry,” he shakes him gently. “I see you’re not a morning person,” he laughs. 

Harry groans, but rolls over. “And you are?”

_No, it’s just a routine._

“Come on.” 

Harry sits up, rubbing his eyes.

“It’s barely even light out,” he whines. 

“Exactly.” 

Five minutes later, Harry is in his matching tracksuit, and they’re slipping out the door, past where Zayn and Gigi are still sleeping. The lobby is quiet, and they’re walking out the front entrance into the city like Paris belongs to them at this hour. 

And maybe in some ways, it does. 

They walk towards the street they found the first café on, and they follow that same one until they find another one that’s open at this hour.

“Number two,” Harry notes.

“Yeah,” Louis nods. “When are we going to the Louvre?”

“I don’t know,” Harry shrugs. “Whenever we’re done.”

Louis doesn’t love the _once we lose_ implication.

They step inside, and just like last time, Harry orders for the both of them while Louis pays at the counter. Their order doesn’t take long, since they’re the only people inside. They thank the staff before leaving, then automatically start walking back up the street. 

“Are we going back?” Louis asks casually. 

“Well,” Harry stops, and Louis does the same. “Look,” Harry reaches up with one hand, placing it under Louis’ chin, turning his head slightly. “There’s the sun starting to rise,” he turns Louis’ head towards another angle. “And there’s our balcony.”

Harry removes his hand from under Louis’ chin, and Louis follows the motion, looking right at Harry. 

“So,” Harry smiles. “Yeah, let’s go back.” 

They sit on the balcony to watch the sunrise, sipping their drinks, sharing their pastry and their chair. When Zayn and Gigi come out to join them, showered and in their tracksuits, the second chair is still empty, and they sit down without a word.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Harry asks out loud, his voice tinged with wonder. 

“Yeah,” Louis answers without thinking.

Then, he turns his head to actually look at the colours of the sky. 

**

Paul drops them off a block away from the arena because the traffic is so heavy. They walk the rest of the way, standing in line to check-in. After swiping their badges, Louis and Zayn are pulled aside for their weigh-in, and then they join the others again quickly. 

They walk all together towards their changeroom, but only Zayn and Louis go inside. They open their bags and take out their uniforms, stripping down and putting them on before checking in the mirror. 

“You know,” Louis laughs. “I like the blue pants on you, but I think the sparring ones look better.”

“Thanks,” Zayn laughs, tugging his top down and adjusting his belt. 

Louis finishes tying his own, then makes sure it’s lined up evenly in the back. He reaches under his top and pulls his pants up a little higher before flipping the waistband and tying the drawstring, ensuring he won’t trip over his own feet. 

“Ready?” Zayn asks, still looking at Louis through the mirror.

Louis looks up from his belt, meeting Zayn’s eye in the mirror. 

“Ready.”

Back outside, they say goodbye to Harry and Gigi before James leads them to their warm-up room. 

“Fight like you know how,” Harry says, having picked up on Louis’ personal mantra.

“Good luck,” Gigi says to both of them before kissing Zayn one last time. “See you guys after.” 

Louis and Zayn turn around to follow James down the hallway, and Louis turns around just one last time. A smile grows on Harry’s face, and Louis thinks he’s ready now. 

**

“I can’t believe you’ve already been through this once,” Louis says nervously as they warm up together, under the eyes of officials in each corner of the room. 

“Poomsae is different,” Zayn shakes his head. “This feels different.”

They’re still only wearing their leg gear, and they’ve put their jackets back on over their uniforms until it’s time to put their chest gear on. But as of right now, they still don’t know what colour they’re wearing, so both pieces are still sitting in their duffel bags with James. They finish their dynamic stretch and move on to some static stretching, sitting on the ground. 

An official approaches, and the two of them jump to their feet quickly as the other two Canadian fighters for the day approach to listen.

“Canada,” he runs his finger down a list. “Gagnon and Barrow, red. Tomlinson and Malik, blue.”

The official flips the page, moving on to the next group. Louis and Zayn go back to stretching, before finally gearing up and taking some shots. The monitors in the room turn on, and they can see the arena on the screens. Suddenly, they’re calling out the first division and the eight names that go with it. They line up inside the door, helmets and water bottles in hand, coaches at their sides. 

Louis and Zayn watch as they walk out of the room, down the hallway and into the arena, and they can hear the cheers of the people inside.

“I’m next,” Zayn mumbles to himself, looking up at the monitors to watch them all arriving at their rings. “I’m fighting in the next hour.”

Louis just nods along as he watches the first match start. He forces himself to look away, not wanting to let his concentration dip. Before he knows it, it’ll be Zayn out there, and Louis wants to make sure he helps him prepare as much as possible. 

So Louis helps Zayn stay focused, kicking and getting kicked as they continue their pre-fight routine. James intervenes every so often, offering tips as he observes the other competitors around them. 

The next time Louis looks up at the screen, the last two girls are fighting, and the official with the list starts calling out for the boys’ division, naming them off one at a time to line up in order. 

“Zayn Malik.”

Zayn turns to look at Louis quickly, and Louis hugs him before pushing him towards the line. 

“You’ve got this,” he says, as Zayn looks over his shoulder. 

James squeezes Zayn’s shoulder and walks with him into their placement in line, and when Louis counts, he realizes he’s in the fourth spot, meaning he fights second. 

Zayn is less than half an hour away from potentially clinching a quota spot for Canada at the Olympics, and his own well-deserved place in the quarter-finals. 

Louis watches as they stride out, and can’t help but notice how the girls don’t return. He realizes there must be a separate room for after they fight, which means Louis won’t see Zayn again until after his own match. 

He sighs and continues stretching, knowing he’s on his own now. 

Louis only starts paying attention to the monitors as the first match ends. The camera switches to the one on Zayn’s ring, and James pats Zayn on the back as he stands up from his chair to walk into the ring. He wishes he could be in the stands, watching with Harry and Gigi; this context just isn’t the same. 

The match starts, and Louis thinks Zayn looks nervous. But he watches as Zayn takes a breath, relaxing all of his clenched muscles, finally looking like he belongs in the ring. Louis wonders if the commentators notice details like that. What will they say for the people watching the live stream from home?

Zayn’s opponent makes the first attack, but Zayn successfully sideswipes and counters. He attacks next, coming from the corner he was backed into, flipping a switch on the pace. Louis gets lost in the interactions, but when he looks at the scoreboard at the sound of the buzzer, he realizes Zayn is leading by one. 

He watches on the screen as James talks to him. He gestures to his head, and Louis can’t tell if he’s talking about protecting his own or attacking his opponent’s. Either way, Louis is confident Zayn will do what he’s told and come out of the second round leading, too. 

And he does. 

As he heads over to James for the last break between rounds, he’s leading by three but looks like he’s getting tired. Louis knows Zayn’s endurance is better than this now, so it must be from the end of the initial adrenaline rush. 

But when Zayn puts his helmet back on to go back inside the ring one last time, his face says he’s got a job to finish. 

So he does. 

Zayn wins his match and drops to his knees when he returns to James’ side. The cameras cut away, but Louis hopes Zayn carries that feeling. 

Louis suddenly feels the pressure, more than ever. Gigi, Harry and Zayn have all won their first match. Now, he’s the only one left. 

James returns to the holding room when the division switch occurs and somehow, it helps Louis relax a little bit. James checks his sensors one last time, then tells Louis he’s done warming up. 

It works out, anyways, because the official is calling Louis’ name.

It’s the first one on the list. 

He’s going to be fighting in just a few minutes. 

**

Louis leads the group out, James walking beside him towards his chair. He sits down and James wastes no time encouraging him, since the match will start as soon as everyone is seated. 

Louis’ eyes don’t wander for even a second. He doesn’t look at the other rings to check if everyone’s there yet, though he doesn’t know, and he doesn’t look up to the bleachers, because he _does_ knowHarry is there with Gigi. 

Harry promised, and Louis trusts him. 

With his mind automatically blocking out the noise from the crowds, he’s able to hear the referee calling him to the centre of the ring. Louis stands up from his chair and walks in, helmet tucked under his arm as he bows to his opponent and the head table. He puts it on, velcros himself in, and gets ready to go. 

From their fighting position, the referee signals the start of the match. Louis works to match the footwork of his opponent, not wanting to be the one to choose the rhythm in the first round. That being said, it gives his opponent the upper hand, and Louis comes out of the first round trailing by two.

But Louis knows that’s when he excels. 

So in the second round, he lights a new fire under his feet, forcing his opponent to react to his constant switch-ups. The confusion leads to hesitation, which allows Louis to take advantage and score multiple times in a single interaction because the other contender is too busy playing catch-up. 

Louis comes out leading by three, feeling a lightness in his chest as he sips on his water and listens to everything James is saying. In the last round, Louis feels more energized than ever, and he doesn’t take his foot off the gas. He changes his strategy again, switching his stance to the other side, forcing his opponent to either stay the same and keep his favoured leg in front, or switch to match Louis. 

No matter what choice he makes, he’ll be paying for it. 

In the end, the score is 15-10, and when Louis looks up to the bleachers from his seat, he finds Harry and Gigi waving down at him. He smiles before turning his attention back to the arena, and he watches the other matches attentively, knowing he’ll be fighting one of the three winners in the quarter-finals tomorrow. 

When the last one ends, they’re escorted out and down the hallway in the other direction, heading towards the holding room. 

“Louis,” Zayn rushes over to Louis as soon as he walks in the room. 

Louis crashes into Zayn with force, still in his gear while Zayn’s already taken his off and changed back into his tracksuit. 

“I’m so proud of you,” Zayn tells him, before releasing his hold to spin him around and untie his gear.

“And I’m proud of you,” Louis echoes, lifting his gear over his head. 

James brings Louis his duffel bag so he can pack it up and get dressed after a quick shower. Louis carries his tracksuit and his towel over to the showers, where there’s soap waiting for him. He moves quickly, desperate to leave this room. 

Zayn puts a stop to his rush, saying he should blow dry his hair quickly. Louis huffs, but does it, anyways. What’s five more minutes?

_Five more minutes they’re standing outside, waiting._

Louis stands under the heater and pushes the button, shaking his hair out as the air blows hot against his scalp. He looks over at Zayn, who’s standing patiently with James. Once his hair is almost completely dry, he steps out and walks over towards them, picking his bag up from the ground. 

“Okay,” he breathes out. “Let’s go.” 

Outside, Harry and Gigi are standing at the end of the hallway. When they notice them walking over, their faces change, and they start moving in to meet halfway. Gigi jumps into Zayn’s arms, wrapping her legs around his body as Harry and Louis just watch on. They laugh before turning to each other. After a beat of silence, Harry pulls Louis into a hug.

“Good fight,” he whispers.

“Thanks.”

Afterwards, Harry congratulates Zayn and Gigi congratulates Louis, and then the four of them are following behind James to go find Paul. He asks how it went and then congratulates them on their wins. He drops them off at the hotel, and they have the rest of the night to themselves. 

“Dinner?” James asks, looking at his phone for the time. 

“Maybe in an hour,” Zayn suggests. “We’ll get dressed and stuff.” 

“That sounds good,” Harry agrees. “Where tonight?” 

James purses his lips, then tells them he’ll figure it out before they meet in the lobby again. 

They head upstairs, and together, the four of them have a quick video call with Niall and Liam. It doesn’t last long because of the time difference, both of them needing to head out to work. Gigi kicks Louis and Harry out of their half of the room then, forcing them into their side.

Harry pretends to gag as she shuffles them towards the door. Louis laughs, joining in on his noises. 

“I don’t know how thin these walls are,” Harry says as they step into their side. “But I don’t want to hear it.”

Louis pulls the door shut and hopes for the best. 

After a quick text to make sure it’s alright, Harry calls his sister. 

“Hey, Gemma,” he says into the phone.

Louis can’t hear Gemma on the other end. 

“Yeah, we both fight tomorrow,” he says. “No, I don’t know what time.”

Harry looks up at Louis then. 

“It’s for you,” he says quietly, and Louis makes a face as Harry covers the speaker. “She wants to talk to you.” 

Curiously, Louis takes the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Louis. Nice fight today.”

“Thanks, Gemma. It means a lot that you watched,” Louis laughs nervously, pacing around the open space, Harry watching from the bed. 

“Is my brother doing okay?”

“What?”

“Just wondering. I know the two of you agreed to be friends. But he won’t really talk to me much about how he feels about that.”

“Well, good I hope,” Louis glances over at him, and the silence on the other end rings heavy in his ear.

“Okay. I’ll let you go,” she says. “Have a good night, and tell H I said so, too.”

“Bye, Gemma.”

As soon as Louis hangs up the phone, the sounds of Zayn moaning fill the room. Harry and Louis make a disgusted face at each other, but Louis doesn’t miss the way Harry’s lip twitches. 

**

When the four of them get down to the lobby, sporting their business casual looks rather than the tracksuits they’ve been living in, James already has a taxi waiting for them. 

Another day, another restaurant. 

Their goal was simply not to live in the hotel the entire time they spend in Paris. And they’re doing a pretty good job so far. 

“All four of you are fighting tomorrow,” James states. “So take this night as the destressor you need before that happens.”

“What happens after this?” Gigi asks suddenly. “Do we have to go to Olympic Trials?”

“Yeah,” James nods. “I would like you to. Being the ones who have qualified Canada, you have an automatic spot at the trials. Since the Olympics are in two years, though, the trials will be next year. So we don’t have to worry too much about that, yet.”

“Focus on tomorrow,” Louis thinks out loud.

“Focus on tonight,” Harry corrects him. “Tomorrow is tomorrow.” 

Louis listens to Harry. 

So for the rest of the night, he focuses on the way Harry’s eyes fall on him anytime he laughs, and the way his hand hangs over his shoulder with his arm wrapped around Louis on their way out, and later, on the way his skin blazes under Harry’s touch as they go to sleep. 

**

_WORLDS - DAY 5_

None of them are on the bleachers today. They check-in and head straight to the locker rooms to change and then they’re heading towards the warm-up room. Sticking together, they find an open space, put on their leg gear and start their routine. Everyone else around them is doing their own thing, some of them already completed geared up, but they stay focused on each other. 

It’s not hard to figure out that Gigi and Zayn will be in the second group, with Louis after them, and Harry after him. The officials explain that the routine today will be the same as before; all four matches will go out at once, taking place one after the other. The only real difference is that this time, all four matches make up the entire division. And tomorrow, it will be down to the top four, where they’ll get to fight on the elevated ring. 

The first group is called up, and the monitors are turned on. None of them pay much mind, continuing their stretch instead. They use each other for balance as they swing their legs up and down, getting higher on each swing, lifting their heel off the ground each time. James just watches on, arms crossed, looking serious as ever. 

Within the next hour, the groups are switching out and the first group of boys are starting to fight, meaning Gigi is up next. She slips on her gear, assigned red for the day, and Zayn ties it for her in the back. He slips his own gear on as well, so she can take some shots. Harry and Louis standby and watch, helping her adjust anytime she asks for it. 

Somehow, she’s still smiling and doesn’t seem nervous at all. 

“Hey,” Louis holds her arm gently as Zayn steps away to talk to Harry. “How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Look so carefree,” Louis laughs. “You just seem so relaxed.”

“I am,” Gigi shrugs. “Louis, it doesn’t matter. Obviously, go out there and try to win, but whether you do or don’t, we’re still going home. Our lives will still be right where we left them.”

“Yeah,” Louis nods. “Right where we left them. Thanks, Gigi.”

She smiles brightly and goes back to working on her full leg extension. 

After a few more minutes of working together, the official starts calling out their names, getting them lined up in order near the door. Once her name is called, Gigi gives them all one last smile before going to take her place.

“Love you all,” she kisses her own hand three times. “See you soon.” 

She bends down and grabs her helmet from her bag, then walks over with James, last in line this time around. 

_Save the best for last._

They walk out, and all three boys turn their attention to the monitors to watch as Gigi takes her seat in the competitor’s chair, spinning it around to face the opposite direction. The camera cuts to the first ring where the first match is about to begin, and the three of them turn away again, focusing on Zayn getting ready. 

Louis slips on his gear to allow Zayn to kick around, and Louis kicks lightly back to make sure his gear is tied how he likes it. They match footwork for a few minutes, but by the time the second match of Gigi’s division is ending, Zayn calls it good, not wanting to kick anymore. He sits down to continue stretching and Harry and Louis sit with him, turning their attention to the screen. They watch the third match off and on, really zoning in as it comes to an end. They finish up, and the cameras cut to Gigi and her opponent, splitting the screen as they wait for their turn. 

Right then, names are being called to get in line for the next group. Zayn’s name is on the list, and he goes over to where his spot should be, puts his helmet down as a marker, then moves back to watch the screen with Harry and Louis. 

Gigi is bowing and putting her helmet on, and then the match starts. Louis watches nervously, anticipating the first move.

“Hey,” Zayn says. “She’s not nervous, so you don’t have to be nervous for her.”

Louis nods and goes back to watching, trying to do so more casually. Gigi makes the first move, but her opponent is the one who scores. They go back and forth, keeping a steady pace through the round, though it looks like it’s almost comfortable. Louis knows she’s going to change it up in the second round. It’s smart, though; a good way to conserve her energy. 

They’re tied at the end of the first round, going into the second still even. Just as Louis expected, Gigi changes up the rhythm. The three of them watch with baited breath as she makes the first move again, but this time, she comes out of the interaction with three points. 

“Let’s go,” Zayn says strongly under his breath. 

They watch as Gigi finishes the second round with a bang, flying around and landing a few more points in succession. At the buzzer, the sounds of the audience in the arena float down the hall, filling their warm-up room, sending chills through Louis’ body. 

By the time the third round starts, all eyes in the warm-up room are on the screens, watching the newcomer from Canada make her world championship debut in the grandest way possible. Gigi maintains her lead, and when the buzzer goes at the end of the match, her hands fly up to her face, crouching on the ground as she cries happily. 

Zayn stands up and claps as if she can see him, but Louis doesn’t think it matters all that much. 

Gigi is guaranteed to medal. 

Zayn’s group is being walked out then, and he waves goodbye to Harry and Louis as he runs over to take his spot and refocus. 

Harry and Louis are left sitting alone, eyes still trained on the screen. 

“Crazy,” Harry says under his breath.

“Crazy.”

The two of them continue stretching, and Harry offers to put his gear on for Louis to kick. He agrees, and they work together in silence, and Louis thinks that fact alone is enough to make it feel like he’s just back in the dojang. Everything else around him fades away, and it’s just him and Harry training together like they do at home. 

Louis kicks absentmindedly until it’s Zayn’s turn to fight. Both of them turn their attention back to the screen, watching as Zayn takes a deep breath before walking into the ring. Already, he appears more relaxed than the previous day, but his opponent makes him work for that feeling. He pushes him hard, not giving Zayn a chance to think before he needs to be reacting again. 

By the end of the first round, it’s not looking good. Zayn is trailing by a few points, and while Zayn is good, his opponent wants it badly, looking to defend his world title. Zayn pushes hard in the second round, James yelling from the sidelines as he fights, but he only manages to close the gap by a couple of points. He sits in his chair before the third and final round, and Louis finds himself crossing his fingers. 

Zayn comes up short, and loses his match.

James hugs him when it’s over, and Louis is certain he isn’t angry. How could he be? Before this year, Zayn had never competed in sparring at the national level. And here he is, fighting with them at worlds. He’s proven himself to be dangerous in all events now, and Louis thinks they better watch out for him next year. 

When the last match ends, the next group of girls are led out to the arena. 

“You’re next,” Harry states. 

“Yeah.” 

“Hey,” he says, looking at Louis seriously. “All you have to do is win one match,” he smiles, repeating Louis’ words back to him from the first day he had to fight.

“Today,” Louis laughs. “All I have to do is win one match today.”

“Today you do, tomorrow you will.” 

Louis gets back on his feet then, moving around to stay warm. Harry does the same, not because he needs to right now, but simply so Louis isn’t doing it alone. And Louis appreciates the company. 

“Wait,” Louis frowns. “Who are you going to warm up with?”

“Don’t worry about me, Lou,” Harry laughs. “Just focus on your match. I’ll see you after mine. Besides,” he continues. “James will probably come back for me.”

Louis nods, and he supposes Harry is right. 

He wonders how Gigi and Zayn are doing in the other room.

Harry shoots him a look, sensing his wandering mind, pulling Louis back to the moment. 

For the next half hour, Louis keeps his mind on the target. He wants to win; needs to win. He sips his water and goes back to matching Harry’s light footwork, reacting to whatever he throws his way in the small space they have. 

By the time Louis’ name is being called, he’s got enough adrenaline rushing through him to fight immediately, wanting to go first. Lucky for him, he’s in the first ring. 

Harry puts his hand out in front of him for a high five before he walks away, and Louis hits his hand downwards, fingertips grazing through his gloves. 

“I’m watching,” Harry assures him.

“I know,” Louis smiles. 

“I’ll see you soon.”

“After you win.”

Harry laughs, head thrown back.

“Yeah, after I win,” he looks at Louis again. “But right now, you need to go win.”

Louis smiles one last time before heading over to take his spot at the front of the line. He’s got his helmet tucked under his arm and his water bottle in the same hand. He shifts his weight back and forth from each leg in anticipation of walking out into the arena again. Louis doesn’t look back as they’re being led out. His game face is on, and he’s ready to spar.

James meets him at his chair.

“Alright, so I’m sure you saw Zayn didn’t win,” he says grimly. “But I need you to stay focused on yourself right now. You can’t be thinking about him,” he pauses. “Or Harry. Ten minutes. Stay focused for ten minutes, yeah?”

Louis nods, knowing the referee is going to call them in at any second. 

“Alright, give it everything in the first round,” James says as the referee signals the head table for the start. “And we’ll go from there.”

Louis walks in, feeling good. He’s going to take it two minutes at a time. 

After bowing, he puts his helmet on, securing it tightly. He steps back with his right leg into his dominant stance, keeping it short since his opponent has some height on him. He closes the distance, knowing he can’t allow him to sit comfortable in his preferred kicking distance with his long legs. So Louis moves in and out quickly, bringing his left leg up for a cut kick to test the waters. When he’s able to land it on the side of the chest gear, he follows up with a cut roundhouse, scoring a clean point and clearing the distance one he does. 

He can hear James from the sidelines, but he blocks it out. He avoids his opponent’s initial attack, but finds himself defenceless when his long leg swings up to make contact with his helmet. Louis moves into it, hoping to at least get a point out of the interaction to even out the score again. He punches hard and then chases forward to follow it up with a double. When his opponent stumbles slightly, he spins quickly on the ball of his foot, landing a turning hook kick to the side of his head. 

The crowd is on their feet as the first round ends. Louis heads back to the chair and takes all the advice James is willing to offer him. 

“You need to watch his back leg. He’s cheating when you can’t see, sliding it forward to shorten up his stance and close the gap any time you clear out.” 

“Yeah,” Louis agrees. “I think I could use that.” 

“I know you can,” James tells him, then goes over a few more observations as Louis sips his water. 

Louis heads back out for the second round with some new ideas, ready to give it everything again. It’s not the time to experiment, though, so he sticks to what he knows and worries about executing it properly. 

Each time he does, it pays off in the form of a point on the scoreboard. By the end of the second round, Louis has a good feeling. Between rounds, he sits in the chair as James fans him with his towel. 

_Just two more minutes._

He’s called back one last time, prepared to risk it all once more. His opponent stays calm given the current score, but Louis is careful not to walk into any traps, so instead, Louis baits him in, not wanting to make initial contact. When his opponent finally makes a move, Louis is ready for it. He reacts accordingly, only giving up one point, but earning two more for himself. It feels like a decent deal to him.

When the buzzer goes, Louis looks up, realizing he’s won. He held on and secured himself a spot in the semi-finals. He turns around to look at James, who’s on his feet clapping for him. When he turns back, he shakes hands with the other fighter followed by his coach, who congratulates him politely.

“Thank you, sir,” Louis responds.

“How many of you are here? That he’s coaching?” 

“There’s four of us,” Louis tells the coach as his student returns from the other side of the ring.

“Impressive,” the coach just nods. 

“Good match,” the fighter offers, and Louis thanks him and returns the compliment before heading over to James.

“Way to go, Louis,” James says proudly. “You’re going home with a medal.”

**

In the holding room, Zayn and Gigi are waiting for him, simultaneously throwing their arms around him the second he walks in. 

“You did so good,” Gigi squeals. “I’m so happy for you.”

“Me too,” Zayn pitches in. “I can’t wait to watch you from the ground tomorrow.”

“Hey,” Louis says, pulling away, but Zayn just shakes his head.

“It’s alright,” he laughs. “I was impressed with myself for winning just one match.”

Louis hugs him again, then Zayn tells him to go shower while he has time before Harry’s division. He listens, and takes his time, knowing he has at least thirty minutes. By the time he steps back into the room, the divisions are being switched out. 

“Harry’s last,” Zayn tells him.

“Then I’m going to dry my hair,” Louis laughs. “I’ll be back.”

Louis moves into the shower area again one more time, stepping under the hair dryer. He enjoys the heat until it becomes too much at once, and he walks back out to where Zayn and Gigi are waiting for him. 

They’re sitting on the ground, so Louis takes the opportunity, sitting himself in Zayn’s lap and stretching his legs across Gigi’s.

“Comfortable?” She scoffs.

“Very.” 

They laugh and turn their attention back to the monitors, Zayn wrapping one arm around Louis to keep him secure and the other around Gigi, pulling her closer. Louis keeps his eyes glued to the screen, even when he knows they’re being photographed. 

“I can’t wait to get all the pictures,” Zayn sighs once the camera is gone.

“I know,” Gigi agrees. “I can’t wait to send them to my family.”

Louis nods along absentmindedly, his focus only sharpening when he sees a close-up of Harry’s face on the screen. His match is starting, and he’s walking into the ring like he owns it. 

_As he should._

They stay seated through the first round, chatting nervously as Harry trails through the first. Harry bites his nails between rounds, a habit Louis knows he only has when he’s nervous. But it all seems to disappear when he reenters the ring, the nervousness dissipating into a new confidence. Harry crawls back to even out the score, and by the end of the second round, he’s up by one. 

Zayn, Gigi and Louis are on their feet for the entire third round. They’d been doing a good job of keeping quiet, but they can’t contain it anymore, yelling loudly at the screen anytime Harry scores. None of the other competitors pay them any mind; they all understand what it’s like. 

At the end of the match, Harry’s got a smile on his face and a scoreboard to back it up. He goes through the niceties before returning to his seat, where he sits down and looks up, shaking his head, seeming not to believe it. 

The cameras cut to the last match, and they don’t see Harry again until he’s running full speed towards them in the hallway. He slows down as he nears them, wrapping his arms around the three of them at once. 

“Way to go, H,” Zayn says.

“Proud of you,” Gigi murmurs from where her head is squished against his chest. 

The two of them pull away first, but Louis lingers just a moment longer. 

“Good fight.”

Harry pulls away and smiles at him, before turning to Zayn.

“I’m so proud of you, you know.” 

“I know,” Zayn smiles, hugging Harry once more. 

There’s only two days left, and Louis can’t wait to see how it all turns out. 

**

For dinner, they pick another new restaurant, dressing up nicely once more. They toast to Zayn’s worlds journey, and celebrate his loss rather than the others’ wins. They eat together, laughing through the night. 

As the sun sets on another day in Paris, a calm washes over Louis, tiding him over until tomorrow.

**

_WORLDS - DAY 6_

Louis wakes up to the sound of his alarm, body wrapped around Harry.

“Snooze it,” Harry groans, curling up to make himself even smaller. “Just five more minutes.” 

Louis can’t say no, so he hits snooze on the alarm, but stays awake just in case. He doesn’t think Harry actually goes back to sleep either, and really all he wants is to be cuddled a little while longer. If that’s the case, Louis doesn’t mind.

In the last few months, he’s definitely noticed how physically affectionate Harry can be. It just became another item on the list of things Louis didn’t know about Harry, but does now. 

When the alarm goes off the second time, Louis rolls over and turns it off, then sits up and leans against the headboard of the bed. He runs his fingers through Harry’s hair, calmly insisting he wakes up. 

“I am up,” Harry tells him, despite not moving from his curled position. “I’m awake.”

“Awake enough to watch the sunrise with me again?” 

It’s like that single question sends Harry into full wake-up mode, his body shooting up to sit facing Louis.

“You want to?”

“I mean,” Louis laughs, looking at Harry’s sleep ridden face up close. “Yeah,” he finishes quietly.

A smile grows on Harry’s face before he pinches Louis’ cheek and jumps out of bed. He strips out of his clothes and puts his tracksuit on, then nags Louis for being too slow.

“Alright, alright,” Louis laughs. “I’m working on it.”

He heads to the washroom to get dressed and wash his face, moving as quickly as he can so as not to keep Harry waiting. Harry’s already got his shoes on by the time Louis steps out. 

Louis rolls his eyes and slips on his own shoes, following Harry as they walk quietly through Zayn and Gigi’s half of the room to sneak out into the hallway. They take the elevator down and get outside, heading straight for the only street they really know. 

“There’s another one open,” Louis points to a cafe they haven’t tried yet.

“That makes three,” Harry says smugly. 

“Hm, I’ll remember that tomorrow morning.”

“No,” Harry whines jokingly. “I’m kidding.”

“I know.”

They’re in and out quickly, nobody else around. Harry orders and pays this time, telling Louis it’s his turn. Louis argues that wasn’t the deal, but Harry’s already pulling cash out of his wallet. 

“Hey, Louis,” Harry says quietly as they’re walking back to the hotel.

“Yeah?”

“I hope I never forget any of this.”

Louis studies Harry’s face for a moment, though it’s hard to read when it’s focused on the ground.

“I hope I don’t either, Haz,” he says, and when Harry still doesn’t look up, he adds for good measure, “especially not moments like these when we’re not at the arena.”

Harry just rips off a chunk of their muffin and holds it out in front of Louis’ mouth, and he takes it without hesitation. He supposes that’s Harry’s way of putting an end to the conversation. 

**

They’re joined on the balcony once again by Zayn and Gigi, and Louis can’t help but think it feels like a perfect morning. 

Given the narrowed down competition, they don’t have to leave the hotel until nine, giving them plenty of time to pump each other up in the room and make sure they have everything they need in their duffel bags. When they meet James down in the lobby, he comments on their liveliness.

“You all look very fresh and awake,” he gestures with his hand. “There’s a different glow to you, or something.”

The four of them laugh at his words as they make their way outside to find Paul. He waves them over, opening the back door for them. He asks them if they slept in this morning, to which they reply no, and Paul asks what they did, instead.

“Louis and I have been going to a cafe in the mornings,” Harry jumps in. “We get back to the room and sit on the balcony to watch the sunrise.”

“Yeah,” Zayn cuts in as well. “Then Gigi and I join them once we wake up at a not so ridiculous time.”

Paul laughs. 

“It sounds like a good morning,” he looks at Harry and Louis in the rearview mirror. “Les levers de soleil sont parfaits pour les amoureux cachés.” 

Louis looks to Harry, but it’s obvious he won’t be getting an answer from him by the way he avoids his eye.

“Le premier jour, quand j’ai dit qu’il est mon chéri secret, ce n’était pas comme ça, pas seulement aux autres. C’est un secret à lui, aussi.”

“Oh.”

Paul drops the conversation, and Louis wishes he had a slightest clue what was going on. He looks to Zayn, Gigi and James for help, but all they have to offer is a shrug and a reassuring smile. 

They make it to the arena, french secrets already forgotten, and jump out of the van as Paul wishes them luck. With their bags slung over their shoulders, they make their way inside to complete the familiar check-in process before heading straight for their locker room. 

Zayn stays in his tracksuit, while the others change out of them and into their uniforms, putting their jacket back on over top. The three boys head out together when they’re ready, meeting Gigi and James back in the hallway. 

“Ready?” James asks.

_No, how could we be?_

“Absolutely,” Harry answers cheerfully, the exact opposite of Louis’ thought process. 

“Let’s go.”

James leads them into the arena, where they’ve set up another large screen behind the elevated ring and the cameras in each front corner. 

“What’s going on?” Zayn asks, realizing all the competitors are inside. 

“It’s just a presentation of the final four,” James waves it off like it’s nothing. “Kind of like the ceremony on the first day.” 

They nod along, and an official approaches to get them set up in their positions. 

“I guess I’ll see you all later,” Zayn laughs, as the four of them are being split up into different directions. 

“I’ll be here, Zayn,” James tells him. “I can’t be with all of them, so I’ll stay with you.”

“Have fun!” Zayn calls as they all walk away. 

Louis heads to his corner of the room, trying his best to think this is ‘fun’. An official lets him and the three others in his division know that they’re opening the doors for spectators now, so it shouldn’t be long until they start. 

The bleachers fill up quickly, and when there’s not many people left in the aisles, the lights shut off, spotlights whirring around the room. The announcer’s voice booms in the speakers overhead, starting in french, followed by english. He announces each division in both languages, and Louis watches as the one being announced moves towards the ring, climbs up and bows to the crowd. 

He sees Gigi, standing up there and beaming under the light. 

When it’s his turn, Louis steps up, bows with his fellow competitors, then goes to find Gigi and gives her a hug. It’s all just for show, right? 

The audience seems to think so, excited by the prospect of two of the semi-finalists being from the same team. 

Louis turns and watches as Harry steps into the light. He bows with his group, then does just as Louis had done, heading over to where he and Gigi are standing, wrapping his arms around the both of them.

The crowd cheers even louder, their matching tracksuits and team spirit a symbol of unity. 

Louis laughs then, finally realizing that it is meant to be fun. Everyone around him looks so serious, but the three of them are standing here, smiling at each other, and Louis suddenly feels like everyone else is doing it wrong. 

**

“Good show, kids,” James laughs when the opening remarks come to an end and they find him in the warm-up room. “Now, let’s get ready.”

They all put their leg gear on and start their usual warm-up. James tells them that Zayn is currently in the holding room, given he isn’t allowed to be with them in the warm-up room, but he’ll be allowed into the arena when they fight. Each of them express happiness that they’ll be able to watch from up close and cheer each other on from right beside the actual match. Together, they help each other stretch, and when an official starts calling names for the first division, Gigi slips her gear on over her head to start actually kicking. Harry ties it for her as Louis slips his on to work with her and James just watches as the three of them work together. 

The screens in the warm up room are turned on, and the arena is dark once again, waiting for the first two competitors to walk in. On the big screen in the arena, the name of the division pops up before the names of the first two fighters, along with a picture taken of them in a previous moment at the competition. 

“I hope my picture is good,” Harry shrugs casually. 

The competitors walk out with their coaches as their names are announced, and the fight begins. All eyes are on them because there’s nothing else going on in the other rings today. At some point in the day, it’s going to be all eyes on Gigi, on Louis, on Harry. 

The three of them turn back to the task at hand, knowing that they have less time between divisions, given there’s less matches. Gigi shakes her hands loose to relax before working on getting her leg up to Louis’ head. 

“Gigi,” James interrupts. “Watch that left arm. It’s got to drop in front of your chest.” 

Gigi nods, and does the same drill again, correcting her mistake. 

Before they know it, it’s no longer James saying her name, but an official, getting her to line up at the door. James, Harry and Louis all follow, the three of them allowed to walk down together. Zayn shows up as well, knowing Gigi was coming up soon and asking for someone to let him know where he could meet them. 

“Hey, babe,” Gigi smiles as he walks in the room. 

He kisses her quickly, then stands behind her with the other boys. They’re like their own entourage. When they start their walk out to the arena, they stop just behind the curtain. A picture of Gigi’s opponent flashes on the screen, and she walks out first from the opposite side. When Gigi’s name pops up, the official pulls back the curtain, allowing the five of them to head out together.

With the spotlight shining on her, Louis can only assume Gigi is still smiling. 

James follows Gigi right up to the ring, whereas the three boys are slightly redirected towards their reserved seats nearby. 

“This is so cool,” Zayn looks at the sign attached to his chair that reads _Sipjin - CANADA_. 

“I’m going to steal one when we’re done here,” Harry smiles. 

Louis just laughs, and then the match is starting. 

All three of them are on their feet right from the beginning. 

“Alright, Gigi!” 

They yell loudly together, and when they’re this close, Louis’ pretty sure she might actually be able to hear them. It’s a skill to be able to block out the noise coming from everyone that isn’t your coach, but Louis thinks maybe their voices will have the same effect. 

So they keep yelling as Gigi starts actually fighting. 

She fights hard, yelling louder than ever any time she lands a point. They boys clap along and yell, occasionally pausing when James is yelling something at her. 

Her opponent moves for a headshot as Gigi closes the distance on her chest gear, sending the fighter to the ground. Gigi backs up, exactly as she’s supposed to, and her opponent is on her feet again right away. Gigi nods shortly before they continue.

By the end of the first round, Gigi is trailing by two, but Louis couldn’t tell by the looks of the fight. Sometimes, there’s an obvious winner right from the start, but that’s just never the case with this group; every single one of them knows how to bring the fire. 

The second round starts and the three of them are on their feet again. Gigi tries to change the pace, but her opponent is already in control and takes advantage of her misjudgement. By the end of the round, Gigi has fallen further behind, trailing by four.

She’s still smiling in her chair though, as she sips water and listens to James, who doesn’t look like he’s yelling. It’s not that he thinks the match is over, because _it’s not_ ; two minutes is a long time and anything could happen. But rather, it’s like he wants to let her know he’s proud of her no matter the outcome before there actually is an outcome. 

So when Gigi loses, James is there to hug her and tell her it’s alright, but because he did his job, she already knew that. 

The boys are on their feet clapping and cheering, and as her opponent grabs her wrist and raises it in the centre of the ring, she looks down at them and puts her other hand on her heart. Around them, the audience is screaming, but she’s only looking at the three boys on the ground right by her side. 

**

All four of them are back in the warm up room, getting ready for Louis’ match. He’s completely geared up now as he continues stretching, apart from his gloves and his helmet. He uses Harry’s shoulders for balance as he swings his legs, opening up his hips. 

“Grip any harder and I might break,” Harry says over his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” Louis lets go immediately.

“It’s fine,” Harry breathes out, turning around. “I can just tell you’re nervous, that’s all.”

“I guess.”

“Don’t be,” Harry reaches out and straightens the collar of Louis’ chest gear. “It’s gonna be fine.”

Louis knows Harry’s right, but doesn’t want to admit it out loud. 

“You’re right.”

He does anyway. 

“I know,” Harry laughs. 

Somehow, the tension is eased and Harry allows Louis to motion kicks to his body before slipping on his own gear to make sure the sensors are in place. 

“Feels good,” Harry swallows hard.

_What?_

_Oh, the sensors._

“Oh, yeah, good,” Louis stumbles over his words, clearing his own throat. 

An official calls Louis’ name. He’s the second match in his division, so he knew it was coming soon. He grabs his helmet and walks over with everyone else, James standing beside him, his friends behind him. 

He peeks through the curtain to see his picture pop up on the screen, and the official pulls the curtain back as his name is announced. 

“That’s a good picture,” Harry whispers from behind him.

Louis is pretty sure he’s just trying to keep him relaxed, and truthfully, it makes him laugh, so it’s working. “Fight like you know how,” is the next thing Harry whispers, and it’s the last thing he hears before he’s in the chair, completely forgetting that the other three aren’t with him anymore. But when he glances down to where he knows they’re sitting, they wave quickly.

“Louis,” James says seriously, getting his attention back. “Don’t worry about anything, okay? Let your body do the work. Don’t overthink any motion and don’t think about them watching, yeah?”

Louis nods, taking a quick, small sip of water before they start. 

“Just give it everything. That’s all I ask. I’m proud of you no matter what.” 

Louis knows he can do that. He goes out and fights like he knows how, but as the round goes on, he almost wonders if he does know how. He’s trailing by three and growing increasingly frustrated with himself. By the end of the round, the deficit increases and he’s down by five, so he slumps into the chair at James’ side.

“No attitude,” James warns. “Pick yourself up. You’re holding your own and that’s all you can do, sometimes. Go out there this round and switch it up. Adapt. Change your demeanor, your posture, everything. I know you can do that.”

Louis nods. He knows he can do that, too. He can’t bring himself to look down at the others, not when he knows the frustration is painted all over his face. Before he can look at them, he needs to get himself together. 

So he goes into the second round and changes everything, as per James’ suggestion. He forces his opponent to react to the various inconsistencies, and it allows him to catch up a bit. He can hear yelling from below, recognizing it as the voices of his team, but he forces himself to block it out for now, focusing on closing the gap. 

The buzzer goes, and Louis looks up, realizing he’s only losing by two points now. As he walks back to the chair, he finally allows himself to look over.

 _It’s okay,_ Harry mouths, soft smile following.

Louis nods, then takes his seat. James already used the tactic he had with Gigi at the start of the match, so now he’s yelling. He gives him exact instructions for precise moments, telling him what to look out for and how to avoid walking into a defensive kick. Louis listens carefully, and thinks maybe he can pull this off. 

When they’re called in for the last round, Louis feels more confident than he did before. 

Louis doesn’t block out the cheers anymore. He uses them to fuel him, instead. His opponent lands points, but Louis continues to counter, making sure he’s always keeping it even, if not gaining on him. 

He only looks at the scoreboard again at the final buzzer.

_No way._

Louis walks back to his chair to prepare for a fourth round. 

“Alright,” James has to yell now, in order to be heard over everything else. 

A sudden death round isn’t unheard of at worlds, but it’s definitely rare enough to generate the buzz it’s currently getting. 

“Listen to me,” James yells. “One shot. That’s all you get.”

Louis nods, glancing over at the three on the ground. They’re all just standing and watching, waiting for what’s about to happen. 

“Use your front leg,” James tells him. “But only if he uses his first. You wait for his move, then you cut the angle and get your foot up to his head. But,” James repeats. “Only if he uses his front leg first.” 

“And if he doesn’t?” Louis yells back.

“Then it’s the same thing with your back leg.”

The referee calls them back.

“Cut the angle,” James emphasizes, squeezing Louis’ shoulders as he stands up. 

Louis walks back into the ring.

First point wins.

It all comes down to this. 

The two of them wait it out, maintaining their footwork as they face each other. Louis can hear both coaches yelling, and sure enough, his opponent moves in quickly.

Louis cuts the angle, drives his back leg up, and-

He feels it when it’s over. 

He cut the wrong angle. He anticipated the wrong leg. He faked with his back leg, and Louis fell for it. While he was reacting to that, his opponent got his front leg up and his foot clean on his helmet. 

Louis loses. 

Fifteen seconds and it’s over. 

He glances down to find Harry, Zayn and Gigi still on their feet, applauding his effort. He smiles at them and then finishes the match. He shakes hands with his opponent and his coach, and allows his wrist to be held up facing the crowd.

Louis thinks he’ll be lucky to have a bronze medal matching Gigi’s. 

When he finally gets back to James, he puts his head down.

“I’m sorry,” he shakes his head. “I went the wrong way.”

James just hugs him, not wanting to hear anymore. So Louis stops talking, and they step down the stairs, meeting the others as they make their exit out of the arena. 

Once they’re back in the warm-up room and away from the noise, Louis is swarmed by the others, telling him how well he did and how impressed they were. They chatter excitedly over the fact that Louis managed to force a tie-breaker round, and Louis nods along to everything they’re saying. 

Zayn pulls him into a hug.

“You did amazing,” he says. “Your students are going to be so proud of you, but not as proud as me.”

“Thanks, Zayn,” he closes his eyes, squeezing Zayn tighter. 

Zayn lets go, and Gigi wraps her arms around him next. 

“Can’t believe we’re both getting a medal tomorrow.”

“I know,” he laughs, letting her go. “Isn’t it crazy?” 

Louis turns to Harry. 

“You fought like you knew how,” he smiles. 

“I did.” 

Louis doesn’t take his gear off, but instead, allows Harry to warm up first. Once Harry feels good about everything, Louis finally unties it in the back and slips it over his head. He doesn’t have enough time to shower before Harry’s match, so Louis sits and stretches with him, instead.

When Harry’s name is called, he gets up, grabs his helmet and follows James to the door. Louis trails behind with Zayn and Gigi, ready for one last match of the day. 

Harry jokes about his picture as they walk in, and Louis admires how relaxed he is. He watches his hips sway slightly with each step, one long stride after another. The three of them reroute to their chairs, Zayn taking the middle spot. 

The match starts and the three of them are on their feet one last time. 

Harry’s body is relaxed, his hands out beside him, ready to react. His footwork is matching his opponent’s, though he appears comfortable in the pace that’s been set. He works hard to maintain an advantage, but his opponent does, too, so by the end of the first round, the score is tied.

James talks to Harry calmly, and Harry walks back into the ring exuding the same serenity. His opponent changes the pace, but it doesn’t faze Harry, who tends to do better at high speed, anyways. But with him not being in control, Harry ends up trailing by one after the second round. 

As he sits in the chair before the last round, the aura of confidence seems to be fading a little bit.

Louis watches Harry’s leg bounce. He knows how badly Harry wants this, even if he pretends like he doesn’t. Harry’s already completed the task of securing a place at the Olympic Trials for the spot he earned for Canada, just like the rest of them. But right now, being so close, Louis is certain that Harry would love nothing more than to win this match and fight for gold at worlds. 

“Hey,” Zayn leans over, bumping Louis’ shoulder with his. “He looks nervous now, doesn’t he?”

“Yeah,” Louis stares absently in Harry’s direction, watching James yell at him encouragingly.

“You should go talk to him.”

Louis snaps out of his trance, turning his head towards Zayn beside him.

Zayn tilts his head slightly and raises his eyebrows, so Louis does the same thing right back, not in the mood for games; not here. 

“I can’t,” Louis says simply.

“Why not?” 

And truthfully, Louis doesn’t know how to answer that. He thinks he could probably get away with it, especially in his tracksuit. So why doesn’t he? It’s the last match of the day for them. 

“I get it,” Zayn says, though Louis didn’t end up saying anything. 

Louis turns back to look at Harry. He sees him looking up at James as he articulates his tips with his hands. He watches as James stops making motions, and then they’re both turning to look over at Louis. Harry smiles, then turns back to talk to James again. 

At that moment, Louis thinks he’s perfectly content to be watching from the outside. He shifts his glance to Harry’s opponent, who’s being yelled at by his coach. The two of them are completely in the zone and the intensity is elevated. When Louis turns back to Harry and James, he sees the two of them having a laugh. Semi-finals match at worlds, and they’re _laughing_. Louis thinks it’s absurd, but there’s also a pang in his chest; a longing for something he can’t describe. 

Suddenly, the referee is calling them back again. Louis finds himself taking a deep breath. Harry walks in, his confidence level appearing to be back to normal. The crowd in the arena starts to cheer again, and Louis is certain Harry is doing what he can to block it out. He puts his helmet back on and gets back into his stance. The referee signals for them to resume.

Harry makes the first move and lands the first blow. But his opponent is quick, and somehow seems to have longer legs than Harry himself, which Louis never would have imagined to be possible. What’s even worse is that he knows how to use his extra height to his advantage; he maintains his distance, front leg quick in retaliation when threatened. But Harry is smart, he moves in and out quickly, and once he’s in his comfort distance, he draws out an attack, trying to score more than one point at a time. 

Louis gets so lost in it, he doesn’t notice Harry takes the lead until Zayn is screaming beside him. Louis feels frozen in his place, like his feet are anchored to the ground, and he suddenly feels sick. 

_Why do I even care what happens?_

Louis watches Harry as he flies in with a kicking combination that ends with a beautiful stretch right up to his opponent’s face. He backs off, having earned those two points, and plays defense again, baiting his opponent in the way Louis taught him all that time ago. 

_Come on…_

And it works. 

Harry’s opponent walks right into his trap, earning himself a swift jump back kick straight into the chest. In the same interaction, Harry gets his leg up high to get a headshot immediately after, but his opponent moves in, knocking him off his feet. The referee waits for Harry to stand up, and they continue. 

And the other fighter pushes back, diminishing the point gap once more. He doesn’t ever allow Harry to lead by more than one point.

But Louis knows Harry has it in him to win, knows he’s _going_ to win. 

The round goes on. Everything is going well, but Louis notices that Harry’s opponent is suddenly doing something new with his body position. Louis hopes Harry picks up on it, too.

_Why do I want him to win?_

_Why do I want to be the one by his side right now?_

“Harry!” 

Louis can’t even be sure he said his name out loud. But it’s too late, anyways. Louis finally realized what his opponent was doing, and it was about to pay off, while Harry remains totally oblivious. 

Louis can hear the kick land to his helmet with force, and Harry is on the ground. Louis runs to the edge of the ring, where he’s not even sure he’s allowed to be. But he just doesn’t care.

“Harry,” he calls out, not sure if Harry can hear him. Truthfully, Louis isn’t even sure if he’s conscious. 

Louis glances over quickly to James, who’s on his feet, unable to do anything for now but look on. He looks over his shoulder to see Zayn and Gigi, also still standing, watching with worried eyes. 

The arena is silent.

“Harry, you have to get up.”

The referee is already counting. 

“Come on, Harry.”

Harry rolls over.

_Because I love you._

Louis backs away from the ring as he realizes what just ran through his mind, suddenly having an answer to all of his previous questions. The feeling can’t be ignored anymore.

Besides, Harry is getting up, the crowd is cheering, and the referee is already looking him over, making sure he’s able to continue. And Harry is still Harry, there’s no way he would give any reason why he shouldn’t. 

Louis continues to back away slowly as Harry looks over at him quickly. And then it comes flooding in all at once. All the bickering, the teasing, the snide comments; the lingering glances, the subtle touches, the not-so-subtle touches; the first kiss, the night at nationals. It was all leading to this moment, culminating in Louis feeling like he might be sick. But he knows it’s not only a realization of how he feels _right now_. Louis knows that the flooding sensation is telling him maybe he’s loved Harry all along, through all the years of requiring an actual effort to dislike him. 

He gets so lost in it that he doesn’t realize when the match is over. He hears the crowd and he sees James clapping and he sees Harry shaking hands with the opposing coach. And so he finally looks up at the scoreboard and realizes Harry did it. Harry moves back to the centre of the ring and holds up his opponent’s hand in the air with his, looking down at only Louis, just smiling.

A smile that Louis used to think would never be reserved for him is being sent in his direction.

And Louis knows he’s well and truly fucked. 

**

“Louis,” Zayn calls him. 

Louis is still standing in the middle of the floor, but Zayn is calling him over because they’re walking out. Harry is done and it’s time to follow them out. Louis runs over to catch up, thankful Zayn was paying attention, because Louis feels like he could have stood there forever.

As soon as they’re back in their room, Louis pushes Harry’s chest gear. 

“Why would you do that?”

_Fall?_

_Win?_

_Make me realize I love you by doing both of those things?_

Harry stumbles back, and gives Louis a strange look. “I’m sorry I was knocked down?”

Louis just stares down at the ground as Harry wraps his arms around his shoulders, pulling him into his gear.

“I’m okay,” he whispers. 

Louis pulls away and turns to walk out. He hears footsteps following him and when he turns around, he realizes it’s Zayn.

“Louis,” he grabs his arm. “What’s wrong?”

Louis puts both hands on either side of his head, pacing already.

“I think I’m in love with him, Zayn,” he says out loud. 

Louis knows he just had the thought a few moments ago, but he trusts it. Everything suddenly seems just a little bit clearer. 

“Oh,” Zayn looks surprised, but doesn’t act on it. “Are you going to tell him?”

“I don’t know,” Louis stops moving. “I don’t think I should.”

“Why not? What if he feels the same way?”

“Even if he does,” Louis muses. “What if it doesn’t work?”

“Louis,” he laughs. “You’ve spent years hating each other for no reason at all. If you want to make it work, you will.”

“And if we can’t?”

“Then you go back to how things were,” Zayn says, as if it’s just that easy.

“Before when we couldn’t get along or now that we’re friends?”

“That would be up to the two of you.”

In either situation, Louis thinks it would be the end of his world, more than just a little bit.

**

That night, Louis decides all he can do for now is pretend. He needs to act normal. He cannot distract Harry when he’s got a gold medal match tomorrow. So when Harry tells him he’s taking him to the Louvre after their early team dinner, he lets himself be dragged away. 

They cross La Seine over the Pont des Arts, and Harry bubbles excitedly with all his knowledge.

“You know, they had to take all the locks off this bridge because it was becoming a safety concern. Do you know how heavy seven hundred thousand locks are?”

“No,” Louis laughs, looking over the river.

“Me neither, but it was too heavy.”

Louis laughs harder, loving the way it seems to please Harry. 

“What are you thinking about?” Harry asks after they go silent.

Louis turns his head away from the river, looking at Harry under the early evening sky. 

“You,” he answers honestly.

“Hm?”

“Mmhmm.”

Louis turns to keep walking towards the museum, and Harry catches up with him, tucking his arm around Louis’ waist. 

Neither of them say anything the rest of the way there. 

They spend just under two hours moving through the Louvre, Louis paying more attention to Harry than anything else inside the building. 

“Lou, they should put you in the Louvre,” Harry laughs at his own joke, and Louis just shakes his head to shake away the urge to kiss him in front of The Winged Victory of Samothrace. 

By the time they leave, the sky has darkened completely. Harry is still glowing in Louis’ eyes, under the light of the moon. 

“Louis,” Harry whispers in bed. 

“Yeah?”

“You’ve been different tonight,” Harry averts his eyes from Louis’. “Are you,” he pauses. “Are you mad at me?”

“Harry,” Louis reaches out for his hair. “Why would I be mad at you?”

“I don’t know,” Harry mumbles. “I guess I just thought you might be mad that I won.”

Louis pulls his hand away.

_So you think I’m jealous?_

He could turn this into a fight. And maybe he would if he felt differently about Harry. But with the marvel right in front of him, still somehow radiating light in total darkness, Louis doesn’t think it’s possible.

As he brings his hand back up to Harry’s face, rekindling the contact, he asks himself if he is mad. 

_Am I mad at you? At myself? At anyone?_

But he isn’t. Not anymore. 

**

_WORLDS - DAY 7_

They could sleep in, but Harry is awake, begging Louis to continue their breakfast at sunrise routine. Louis can’t say no, so they’re out the door, hunting for another new cafe, before taking their usual spot on the balcony. 

Everything about it feels so normal, and Louis thinks that’s the hardest part. 

_I’m in love with you._

He thinks the words as Harry carries his drink for him, and as he guides Louis to their seat on the balcony. He thinks them as Harry laughs at something Zayn says, then looks over at Louis to see if he finds it funny, too. 

_I love you I love you I love you._

Louis thinks the words until they’re bursting at the seams, and it gets harder and harder to hold them inside. 

But somehow, he keeps himself together. He doesn’t say anything on their way to the arena, or as they go through check-in, or as Harry warms up. 

He goes through the motions of the day, following everywhere he’s supposed to be. 

After the gold medal match in Gigi’s division, they all stand near the podium and applaud her as she receives her bronze medal and her bouquet. When it’s Louis’ turn, he stands and looks out at the crowd, blinded by all the lights and the cameras flashing. 

He still doesn’t say anything as Harry warms-up or as his name is called, and he’s about to fight for gold.

And then Louis finds himself blindly following Harry, keeping his eyes on him as he walks through the spotlight, waving at the crowd after splitting up from the others to get to the ring. 

“Louis,” Zayn whispers when they’re in their seats. “How are you holding up?”

“Fine,” Louis whispers back. “Really,” he looks over at Zayn. “It’ll be alright.”

Zayn just nods, though he doesn’t necessarily seem convinced. 

“So things were good last night?”

“Yeah,” Louis answers shortly, not wanting to get into it.

“Okay.”

The referee moves from the head table into the ring, and Louis keeps his eyes on Harry as the match is about the start. Harry walks in when summoned, and Louis still watches only him. He follows Zayn and Gigi to stand up, clapping and cheering along with them. 

Oddly enough, Louis doesn’t feel real, right now. 

Everything he does is just a replica of something else he’s seeing and realizing he should be doing, too. He’s floating through his own life right now, and he really wishes Harry would look at him and make it all stop.

But that’s selfish of him, and he knows it. 

The match starts, and Harry is immediately thrown into it when his opponent flies at him right away. He defends, fighting him off and scoring his own points in the process, but the pace continues that way. 

Louis just stands there, heart not fully in the fight, but fully into Harry. 

He genuinely doesn’t realize they’re already in the third round until Harry takes a swift kick to the head. It’s nothing compared to the day before, and doesn't elicit another grand realization from Louis, but it is enough for him to be reminded of what’s going on. 

He looks up at the scoreboard and realizes there’s no chance Harry wins. But he doesn’t care, because Louis feels like he’s won.

_It’s like fighting for gold even when we’re not fighting for gold._

Louis won. And even if Harry loses this match, he could still win, too. 

When it ends, Harry and his opponent share a hug, before their hands are in the air. Zayn and Gigi are already getting up and walking over to meet James, but Louis realizes there’s something he needs to do first. He acts quickly, then catches up with the others, following behind Harry and James towards the podium. He watches Harry receive his medal, and smiles when he notices Harry smiling back down at him. 

As soon as Harry steps off the podium, he walks straight to Louis.

“Hey,” he stops right in front of him.

“Hey,” Louis answers. “You did so well.”

“Thanks.”

“So,” Louis laughs. “I got you something.”

Louis removes his hands from behind his back to reveal the sign he stole off the chair for Harry. Harry glances down at it, then back up to meet Louis’ eyes again. 

Before Louis can say anything else, Harry’s hands are on both of his cheeks, and their lips are connected. Louis melts into it, thinking about how much he’s craved this feeling over the last few nights, and even months, if he’s really being honest. He doesn’t even care that the whole world is watching. He kisses Harry like it’s just the two of them in the whole arena.

Harry pulls away first, and Louis is still chasing the feeling. 

Louis can’t believe it.

He loves Harry. 

Harry kissed him.

“Harry,” he breathes. “That was…” 

Louis tries to catch his breath, unable to think of the word he wants to use. His entire mind is blank but he knows he needs to say _something._

Harry just looks at him, watches him struggle to find the words to say.

_Louis, just pick any good word._

“Stupid?”

_Harry, no._

Louis sputters to correct Harry, but his face says it all. Harry is shaking his head, clearly regretting it already. 

Louis’ heart drops, and he blames Harry, because he was holding it in his hands just a moment ago.

“Yeah,” Harry continues. “Stupid. I’m sorry.”

Harry turns around and walks away, leaving Louis standing there alone to pick up the pieces of his heart on the floor. 

_Oh._


	10. june

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> conclusion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is it.... wow. thank you sososo much i cannot tell you how much this means to me. i hope you like the ending. it felt like the right moment. 
> 
> also, this chapter is about half the length as the others.

The rest of their time in Paris was awkward; Louis had never felt so distant from Harry as he did sleeping next to him in bed the last few nights. The flight back was awkward; Harry slept most of the way to avoid talking to Louis. The ride back from the airport was awkward; Louis couldn’t even say goodnight as he was dropped off at his apartment by Niall.

James gives them two weeks off training, and therefore, two weeks off coaching for Louis. He told them not to even step foot in the dojang until that time limit is over, because sometimes the feeling from worlds needs some time to be processed.

Louis thinks he has a lot of feelings that need to be processed. 

But that’s hard to do when Harry is avoiding him like it’s his full-time job. 

At first, it’s easy and therefore understandable. They’re not training, and he doesn’t initiate contact outside of the dojang. But then he starts making excuses for why he can’t hang out with the group, and Louis almost feels guilty. 

Almost.

It’s a choice Harry is making, not him. It isn’t his fault.

“Where’s Harry?” Liam asks once they’re all gathered in his and Zayn’s apartment. 

“I don’t know,” Niall shrugs. “Just said something about being busy.”

“I think he’s still avoiding you,” Zayn says, directed to Louis.

“Why?” Niall narrows his eyes. “What happened?”

Louis feels a little hurt by that, especially knowing he’s kept Niall informed before.

_I told him because I couldn’t stop thinking about it._

“He didn’t tell you?” 

Niall shakes his head.

“Then it probably isn’t my place,” Louis answers quietly, shaking his head and desperately wishing for anyone to change the conversation. 

“But it’s your business, too,” Zayn argues. “He’s the one being weird about it.”

Even though he hasn’t seen him in a week, Louis still feels the need to defend Harry. 

“That’s not-”

“It is,” Zayn cuts him off. “You guys aren’t kids. You’re going to need to talk about it at some point.”

“There’s nothing left to say,” Louis says sadly. “He said it already.”

_Stupid._

_He said it was stupid._

“Does somebody want to tell me what happened?”

Niall’s question is ignored.

“Do you want to know what I really think?”

At this point, Niall and Liam are just listening in as Zayn and Louis hash it out. 

“Sure, Zayn,” Louis sighs, knowing Zayn is going to be brutally honest no matter how much it might hurt Louis. “Tell me what you really think.”

“I think he only said that because _you_ said it first.”

Louis shakes his head, not expecting that to be the thing Zayn says. He was waiting for something about how Louis needs to get over it, because it’s clear he’s the only one who caught feelings. But his words almost suggest otherwise.

“What are you talking about?”

Louis knows exactly what he’s talking about. As he looks back on that first kiss, he regrets the way he reacted. But he pretends to be clueless, because he wants Zayn to elaborate, anyways. 

“On New Years. The first time. You said it was stupid,” Zayn says, as if Louis actually forgot. “So now, when you’re the one who decided you wanted to be friends, and then you take forever to react when he kisses you, what’s he supposed to think?”

Louis didn’t see it like that, before. He never pieced it together that Harry may have just been echoing his words. Did Harry only say that because that’s what he thought Louis was thinking?

It suddenly feels like a very real possibility that terrifies him. 

But Niall starts laughing.

“Wait, you guys are being weird because you kissed? I mean we literally watched that happen live,” he gestures between him and Liam. “And we also know it isn’t the first time,” he pauses. “So what’s the big deal this time?” 

Louis sighs.

“I have feelings this time.”

Louis knows he probably did the other times, too. But now he’s aware of them and no longer pushing them away. Now, they’re pushing Harry away, instead. 

“Oh,” Niall’s face changes. “Does Harry know that?”

Louis stays motionless.

“Does Harry know that?” Niall repeats, emphasizing each word. “When he kissed you, did he know that?”

Louis shakes his head slowly.

“Well that’s probably your first move.”

“How am I supposed to do that if he won’t even be in the same room as me?”

“Look, I’ve known Harry a long time, too,” Niall says genuinely, clearly trying to help Louis. “He can be difficult. Stubborn. So yeah, it will be a challenge. But it won’t be impossible. I know he really cares about you.”

_How do I make him crack?_

Louis just thanks him, deciding he’ll think about it on his own, and effectively changes the conversation, just as he wanted.

But as soon as they’re not talking about Harry anymore, he finds himself wishing they still were. 

**

Without training or coaching, Louis finds himself getting bored easily, so he buries himself in driving shifts. He works a few hours every day, just to find a little comfort in some sort of routine again. 

But no matter how many ways he manages to keep himself busy, he can’t stop wondering about Harry. God, Louis misses him.

He hates it, but he knows it’s true.

So after one last delivery in the evening, Louis decides that if Harry’s not going to crack first, he’ll have to be the one to do it.

_Call me_

_6:33 pm_

He decides that might sound a little too forward, so he follows it up.

_Please?_

_6:33 pm_

His fingers type out the words ‘I miss you’, but deletes them before hitting send on the single word. 

Louis goes home and waits for a call that doesn’t come. He lets himself be sad about it for a little while, but remembers Niall’s words. 

_It’s going to be a challenge, but it won’t be impossible._

He thinks he’ll give it a little more time. 

_Give it some time._

_Then give it a chance._

**

He sends Harry one text every day. 

Every day, he gives Harry one chance.

But he never answers. Louis doesn’t know if he’s reading the messages and ignoring them or just not even bothering to open them. 

Louis wants to know, but he can’t ask Niall. He wonders all the time if Harry is talking about him to Niall. He hopes he is, but Louis reminds himself that Niall didn’t even know what happened between them and why Harry is avoiding him in the first place. 

So the day they go back to training, Louis is excited. Mostly because he wants to get back into it, but also because he knows Harry can’t avoid him there. 

Except he does. 

Harry doesn’t show up to their first session back. And nobody seems to want to talk about it. It’s almost as if they weren’t expecting him to be there. 

Louis doesn’t even enjoy it. Harry manages to ruin it for him by not being there. When they finish for the night, he avoids everyone else, grabbing his things and marching straight out the door, getting in his car and driving right to Harry’s apartment. 

When Louis punches in Harry’s dial code, it rings for a long time before Harry’s voice finally answers.

“Hello?” 

“Harry,” Louis says into the intercom, moving closer to it in an attempt to get rid of his feeling of hopelessness. 

“Go away, Louis,” the pain in his voice, both obvious and troubling.

Louis doesn’t even take a step back.

“Harry, just listen, okay?”

Harry doesn’t say anything, but the line remains open. 

“Look,” he sighs. “Just don’t leave, okay? We can forget everything.”

_I don’t want to._

“We can go back to hating each other if that’s what you want.”

_Please don’t want that._

“Just,” Louis breathes out. “Just don’t leave.”

_Don’t leave me._

The line goes dead, but Louis stays where he is, pressed up close to the intercom. He looks down at the ground, realizing he’s going to lose this match. 

And then the door buzzes open.

Louis snaps his head up and opens the door, running to Harry’s apartment, where Harry is already waiting for him in the hallway.

_We’ve been here before…_

Louis stops right in front of him, examining his delicate features painted in misery, but somehow still beautiful. 

“Do you,” Harry starts, looking uncomfortable with Louis’ eyes on him. “Do you want to come in?”

Tentatively, Louis reaches up for Harry’s face, and when Harry nestles his cheek into his hand, meeting him at the contact, Louis moves slowly to wrap his arms around Harry.

Harry doesn’t react at first. It’s at the first sniffle Louis hears that he feels Harry’s arms holding him back, holding tight like he wishes he had never let go to begin with. Louis pulls away and wipes at the tears forming in Harry’s eyes. None of them are spilling yet, and if Louis could force them back inside, he would. He doesn’t want to be the reason Harry’s crying. 

“I’ve missed you, H,” Louis whispers. 

“Can I explain?” 

“I would like that,” Louis nods. “Let’s go inside.”

They walk inside together, and Louis closes the door behind him. He slips off his shoes, comfortably following Harry to his room, mind flashing back to every time he’s done this before.

Louis sits on Harry’s bed, legs crossed, body facing Harry to let him know he’s ready. Whether or not Louis is actually prepared to hear what he has to say is besides the point. 

“So,” Harry starts. “I kissed you.”

“Right,” Louis laughs, not expecting the blunt beginning.

“And I thought you were upset. Because you just wanted to be friends. But I went and kissed you, and I thought I messed up this friendship I felt like I was finally getting to have with you,” he pauses. “But then, I don’t know. I guess I just realized, like, maybe it’s been there all along?”

“Well, we only agreed to be friends like two months ago.”

“No,” Harry shakes his head. “Even before then. We were friends. We’ve always been friends. It may have looked a little strange, but I always cared, Louis. And I think deep down, you did too. Isn’t that what matters?”

Louis thinks Harry is absolutely right and they’ve somehow managed to come to the same realization. The only thing Louis doesn’t know is whether or not they’ve drawn the same conclusion from it. 

“Harry,” Louis looks right at him. He doesn’t want to hide anymore. “Why did you think it was stupid?” 

A beat passes. 

“Because I thought that’s what you were thinking.” 

Louis shakes his head, already leaning in. He rests his hands on Harry’s forearms, but stops just before his lips meet Harry’s. They stay inches apart, and Louis can feel the moment Harry’s breath hitches. 

“Louis,” Harry chokes out, the word practically falling out of his mouth and landing right in Louis’. “Are you going to kiss me or not?” 

It’s the way Harry manages to sound both desirous and conceited that really does it for Louis. 

He wants to kiss Harry; he _really_ wants to kiss Harry. He hasn’t wanted anything more than to kiss Harry in so long. 

“No,” he pulls his face back so Harry can see him again. 

Harry’s face drops slightly, but Louis reassures him with gentle fingertips.

“Not until I tell you,” he trails off, voice dipping at the end in uncertainty. 

He knows he wants to say it out loud. But how? This is Harry sitting in front of him; Harry, who he wants more than anything. Harry, who Louis wants to hold and to kiss and to love. Harry, who Louis wants to be loved by. 

Harry’s hands slip under Louis’ shirt, just at his hips. His touch sets Louis on fire, just another feeling he’s missed. It’s only been thirteen days since the last time Harry traced his skin with gentle fingertips in bed, but for Louis, that’s twelve nights too many. 

“Tell me what?”

Harry drags him on, and Louis thinks he already knows. How couldn’t he? Louis thinks maybe his love for Harry has been seeping out of him so painfully obviously for a long time, now. 

“I love you,” Louis breathes out at last. “Harry.” More confidence. “I love you.” 

Harry just grins, unable to continue the facade of arrogance.

“I love you,” he echoes. “God, Louis. I love you, too.”

Rapidly, images of Harry flash through Louis’ mind. All of his favourite moments he’s spent with him, moments he thought could never get any better; all at once, every moment is replaced by this one. 

They look at each other a short moment before deciding they can’t wait any longer. What was originally going to be a soft, intimate kiss, turns into a bruising collision of lips. Everything about it feels simultaneously familiar and also brand new, and Louis shudders, thinking that’s what makes it so electrifying. 

Harry’s hands squeeze Louis’ hips, pulling him closer and forcing Louis to crawl forward towards Harry, who leans back, guiding Louis on top of him. He parts Louis’ lips with his tongue, and Louis melts into it. He’s given up any and all control, mind gone completely blank. 

Because this is Harry. Not some random stranger. _Harry._

Harry flips them over then, somehow keeping their mouths attached roughly, but being so careful with Louis’ body as he lies him down. Louis wraps his arms around Harry’s shoulders as Harry slows his kisses, eventually pulling away to look down at Louis beneath him. Louis whines, but then Harry’s lips are on his neck, and any complaints Louis had come out as soft moans, instead. Harry picks a spot and sticks to it, and Louis wraps his legs around his back, crossing his ankles and pulling him closer. 

“Taste so good, Lou,” Harry whispers against his skin.

Louis giggles, thinking he could tease Harry about that forever. Instead, he brings his hands to cup Harry’s face, pulling him back in for another sweet kiss. 

They kiss lazily, comfortably, until they’re too tired to continue. Not tired of kissing, just simply tired. Louis doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of kissing Harry. 

“Louis,” Harry whispers, holding Louis in his arms. 

“Yeah?” 

“When did you know you loved me?” 

Louis squirms in Harry’s arms, rolling over to face him. 

“You really want to know?” 

He watches as Harry pinches his lips together, nodding. 

“Well,” he smiles. “It was your semi-final match at worlds when I thought you were knocked out that it kind of rushed in, but…” he trails off. “I think I knew long before then. I just couldn’t admit it to myself.”

Harry just nods, a soft smile on his face.

“How about you, then?” Louis nudges him with his foot, voice teasing. “When did you know you loved me?”

“You really want to know?” Harry asks, copying Louis’ original words.

“It was the banquet.”

“Harry, that was-”

“Seven months ago? While I was still forcing myself to stay with Nick? Yeah.”

Louis just leans forward and kisses Harry again. He feels Harry hum, content to be kissed.

“You know,” Louis says as he pulls away slightly. “Looking back, I know I was jealous of Nick,” Louis runs his fingers through Harry’s hair. “But then, that was, the night, I realized, you didn’t, love him.” Louis punctuates each break in his words with a kiss to Harry’s skin. 

“God,” Harry moans. 

“And to think that you loved me…”

Louis can’t think about it, actually. He thinks his brain might implode. 

Harry kisses him quickly, one last fleeting press of their lips together as if to make up for lost time.

“Let’s sleep,” he says. 

“Okay.” 

**

The two of them agree to keep their new relationship a secret from their friends for the time being. It was a mutual decision, based solely on the fact that the relationship is _new_ , and not because either of them feels the need to hide the other. 

It results in a half-truth to the group when they start hanging out again.

“So, you guys worked it out?” Zayn asks at Liam’s bar, sitting next to Niall and across from Harry and Louis.

“Yeah,” Harry puts his hand on Louis’ thigh under the table and away from their view. “We’ve been working out, alright.” 

Louis tries his hardest not to react, but it almost makes it funnier that the slightly changed answer goes right over Zayn and Niall’s heads.

It’s not funny anymore when Harry’s hand relaxes on his thigh to stop squeezing in favour of grazing his fingertips higher and higher along the inseam of his jeans.

Liam drops by with some food and squeezes in right next to Louis. But Harry still doesn’t let up. Every time Louis looks over, Harry’s just got a small smile playing at his lips. 

Louis thinks maybe Harry will never be able to kick his habit of being smug. He also thinks he can probably live with that. 

And by the time Liam is getting up to get back to work, Louis is squirming in his seat, excusing himself to the washroom. 

“I’ll make sure he’s alright,” he hears Harry offer as he rushes away from the booth. 

As soon as they’re alone in the small space of the bathroom, Harry is pressing Louis against the wall. 

“Harry,” Louis breathes out. “You can’t rile me up in front of them.” 

“I’m sorry,” Harry says, but Louis doesn’t think he really means it, judging by the tone of his voice and the feel of his lips brushing against Louis’ ear. 

Louis feels like he can’t breathe with Harry leaning in so close.

“Want me to take care of you, baby?” 

_Yes yes yes, yes, please._

“Not here,” Louis manages to fight his instincts. “We can’t be those people.”

“Why do you get to be the one to decide that?”

And then Harry’s lips are on Louis’, and while his body is being increasingly turned on, his mind seems to relax. 

“Okay,” Harry pulls off with a smack. “I’m going back. Gonna tell them you’re fine. Which means you better be back soon.”

Louis tilts his head back, not caring about the way it thuds against the wall behind him. But Harry is already gone, the door swinging shut behind him, and Louis can’t help but laugh. 

**

There’s a lot of bickering. A lot of learning to communicate. Sometimes, old arguments will lend their way into new ones and they’re forced to deal with an old version of themselves that doesn’t represent them, anymore. 

But they’re trying to make it work. Because that’s the thing about routines; they’re subject to change. All those things Louis once thought acted as cement for his relationship with Harry don’t seem to matter anymore; as they push deeper past the surface, it all goes crumbling away. 

They’re able to keep up the act in front of the others for a while. At training, they work together but don’t say much of anything. Outside of training, they spend most of their time at Louis’ apartment, given it will always be empty without a roommate to hide from. 

And it works pretty well. Eventually, it grows into a comfortable habit. But they still plan to tell their friends. They can’t figure out exactly how or when, but it ends up happening naturally after a slip-up. 

“Harry, you’re leaving already?” Liam asks as Harry stands up from the couch. 

“I’ll come back,” Harry assures Liam. “I have an individual session with James tonight.”

Harry walks around the couch and when he’s right beside the arm where Louis’ sitting, Louis leans up and kisses him quickly. Just a quick press of their lips to say goodbye.

And then Louis remembers they’re not alone in the room. 

But nobody says anything for a long time. Harry just stands there awkwardly, knowing that something is coming that he can’t exactly run away from at this point. 

“Are we just going to pretend like nobody saw that?” Niall asks, arms thrown up. “If nobody else is going to call it out, I will!” 

“No, yeah, I think we should,” Zayn agrees. “Do you guys have something you want to tell us?” 

“Um,” Harry starts. “Maybe when I get back?”

“That sounds like a good idea,” Louis agrees, without looking back up at Harry. 

And then Harry is walking out quickly, before anybody else can try to say anything. 

“So,” Zayn says once the door is closed and Harry is gone.

“When he gets back.” 

That’s the end of the conversation. Everyone plays their role well, pretending like they don’t know anything yet.

And when Louis catches Zayn smiling at him every so often, he knows he’s breaking character, but Louis is too carefree to let him know.

**

The moment Harry walks in the door, the laughter stops and the room goes silent.

“Well, give me a minute,” he laughs shyly as he takes off his shoes.

Louis figures things can’t get any weirder anyways, so he has nothing to lose when he jumps up and walks over to Harry at the entrance. He can feel everyone’s eyes following him, but he pretends not to notice.

“So,” Louis whispers. “What’s the plan here?”

“There is no plan,” Harry laughs. “Also, hi darling, how was training? Oh yeah, it was good, thanks.” 

“I’m sorry,” Louis laughs, pushing Harry gently. “I’m just-”

“I know.” 

And the thing is, Louis trusts that Harry really _does_ know. 

“I love you,” Harry tells him. 

“I know.” 

And the thing is, Louis really _does_ know. 

**

“Okay, wait,” Liam waves his hands after Harry and Louis finish explaining everything. “I’m going to need a timeline, I think.” 

They both laugh as they turn to each other, figuring out who’s going to answer.

“Well, basically,” Harry starts. “The sex at nationals was just so good that Louis realized he loved me and-”

Everyone groans over the sound of his voice, telling him to stop. Louis just rolls his eyes and elbows Harry in the side lightly. 

“I’m kidding,” Harry defends. “The only thing to retain from the timeline is that it took too long,” he says, a rosy shade colouring his cheeks. 

“H, that’s still gross,” Niall laughs, pretending to gag. 

Louis just turns and presses a kiss on the soft skin right behind Harry’s ear. 

“I just can’t believe it took so long after you guys went on that date on Valentine’s day,” Zayn laughs. “Honestly, when I saw you guys kiss earlier, I thought maybe you’ve been hiding this since around that time, and the whole thing at worlds was just an elaborate cover.”

Louis kind of wishes that had been the case. What would they be like now if they’d been together since then? How different would it be? Would they even still be together? Maybe they needed that extra time.

Louis thinks until he’s overthinking, and Harry wraps an arm around his waist. 

He takes a breath and lets it all go. Because Harry is by his side now. 

**

“Let’s go, now!” Louis yells in encouragement as the junior team does their sprints in his first session returned with them. 

Harry is sitting in the box office, watching fondly through the glass. 

When they’re done with their drill, Louis gathers them to dismiss them. They all head out to leave, but Alex stays behind. Ava whispers to her quickly, and Alex just nods before Ava shoots Louis a small smile and heads towards the locker rooms. 

“Is everything alright, Alex?”

Alex nods, a smile growing on her face. 

“Why is Harry sir here?” 

She gets right to the point. There is no beating around the bush with her. 

“Um,” Louis laughs. “He’s just watching.”

Louis hears the intercom buzz. 

“Tell the kid the truth, Louis,” Harry’s voice fills the air, and Louis whips around to shoot him a glare.

Except he can’t; not when Harry is smiling at him like that. 

So he turns back around to face Alex.

“Harry is my…” He trails off, not actually knowing how to finish the sentence, the words never previously spoken out loud. 

“Boyfriend,” Harry finishes it for him, sensing his lack of confidence. 

Louis turns around again, slowly this time, and Harry’s once cheesy smile has turned softer. 

“Really?” Alex asks.

Louis turns around to face her again and just nods. 

“Hey,” Ava approaches, kissing Alex on the cheek before standing next to her. “What’s going on?”

Louis controls his face. He doesn’t react. He doesn’t say anything.

But of course Harry can’t do the same; not when he’s having so much fun on the intercom. 

“Hey Lou, you were right,” he laughs. “They really are a mini version of us.”

Louis watches as both girls blush, and then they’re all laughing together. 

**

They keep up with frequent group training sessions, considering the next competition season starts in just a couple of months. Normally, they give themselves a break before slowly starting up again in the summer. But given it’s already summer, they collectively decided to maintain a consistent routine. 

So James pushes them hard, reminding them of all the work it took to get as far as they did, and how happy some people would be to take their place. Olympic Trials are next year, and they’re expected to excel in the upcoming season in the meantime. 

“Alright good work,” James says as they finish their workout. “Let’s bring it in.”

Louis peels himself off the ground and walks over to join the group. They put their hands in and cheer, before all separating to get changed.

“Tomlinson, Styles.”

James calls them back as they walk away, bodies joined at the hip despite the sweat dripping. They turn around and let go of each other, walking over to where James is waiting for him. 

He pauses for a moment, looking between the two of them.

“So are you guys-” he points between the two of them. 

“Yeah,” Louis shrugs, playing it off as casual. “You don’t have to worry about tearing us off each other anymore.”

“Well,” Harry laughs. “Not because we’re fighting, anyways.”

James makes a face at the same time as Louis hits Harry.

“Would you stop that?” 

“Stop what?” Harry asks, feigning innocence, daring Louis to put his words into context out loud. 

“Okay,” James stops them. “Just don’t-”

“We won’t.”

Louis has no idea what James was going to say, but he trusts Harry, and that’s all he needs. 

**

Everything settles down. Louis liked things the way they were when he and Harry were pretending to be just friends in front of the others, but he likes it even better now that they’re not doing that. 

He loves getting to eat off Harry’s plate at dinner and cuddle up close to him on the couch during a movie. He loves kissing him hello and goodbye and having Harry’s arm around him like that’s where it belongs. 

He even loves Harry’s slightly exhibitionist tendencies, though he would never admit that one to his friends. 

When they’re all hanging out, everything just feels like it’s the way it always should have been. 

Most of the time they get to spend all together is at Liam’s bar. Trying to find time all five of them are free is nearly impossible, but Liam doesn’t mind scheduling their hangouts around his work schedule. 

Louis remembers a time when he didn’t go out much; he and Zayn spent most of their time on Zayn’s couch. He remembers Zayn saying they should go out more often. But he doesn’t remember when going out became the routine. Louis brings it up to Zayn one night, and in response, he invites Louis and the other boys over for dinner at his apartment on a night they’re all available, including Liam.

Everything that’s nearly impossible is still possible. 

It’s just going to be another casual hangout night. By the time everyone gets there, the food is done. They each take a plate and dish themselves their own servings before making their way to the living room, where they can all sit comfortably. 

The air is heavy, and it makes it feel like there’s a specific reason they’re all there.

“So,” Zayn says, scraping his fork against his now empty plate. “I have some news.”

Louis leans forward and puts his own empty plate on the coffee table, taking Harry’s from his hands and stacking them neatly together. When he sits back, he leans into Harry, for no reason other than wanting to be close to him. Harry wraps his arm around Louis’ shoulder, allowing him to get even closer. 

“What is it?” Harry asks.

“I’m moving in with Gigi,” Zayn announces casually.

“Congrats, man,” Louis smiles. “That’s so exciting.” 

“Yeah,” Zayn laughs. “I’m pretty excited.” 

They chat happily about the details of the announcement until the room falls into a more comfortable silence. Niall gets up, offering to take the dishes, and Zayn and Liam slip out onto the patio for a smoke. 

Nobody is worried about leaving Harry and Louis alone together anymore. 

Louis looks up at Harry from where he’s tucked under his arm.

“Hey,” he whispers.

“Hey,” Harry smiles back at him, eyes locked on Louis’. 

“Move in with me.”

For such a big thing to ask, Louis doesn’t really think it is. He’s spent years living alone and telling himself he was fine with it. But he isn’t, not anymore. Not when he finally has someone he wants to wait around for at home and someone he wants to come home to. 

It’s Harry.

Harry makes him want to change his entire routine and start brand new. 

Finally, it’s a gold medal match they can both win.

“What?”

“Yeah,” Louis smiles. “I would really like that.”

“It’s pretty early,” Harry answers, though it’s clear he’s just stating a fact, not using it as a real argument. “That’s not normal.”

“We’re not exactly normal,” Louis laughs. “Besides, think about it. It would definitely be a good way to figure out very quickly if this is going to work.”

“And what if it doesn’t?”

“Well, it’s like you said before. Zayn and Gigi would love to have me because I’m such a joy to be around.”

Harry pokes his tongue out.

“But,” Louis continues. “I think it will be alright.”

“Yeah,” Harry kisses him. “Yeah, I believe that.” 

When the other boys get back, Harry and Louis fill them in on their very impromptu decision.

“So,” Liam laughs. “You wanna be roommates, Niall?”

And then everyone is laughing, and Louis knows everything will be alright. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> genuinely.... thank you so much !!!! i am soso grateful to have people reading my words. i hope you enjoyed. if you did, please feel free to leave kudos and a comment !! honestly, even if you hated it, leave a comment anyways and let me know !!
> 
> also, you can reblog the fic post [here](https://lt2soon.tumblr.com/post/642327396939415552/dont-want-to-fight-you-hl-complete-124k-by) :)
> 
> thank you thank you thank you


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